


In the Shadows of the Red Keep

by PsychVamp



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arya never leaves Kings Landing, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, Gendrya Big Bang, Kings Landing AU, Marriage, Original Character(s), R+L does not equal J, Rebellion, Revenge, no mad queen Dany
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24759310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychVamp/pseuds/PsychVamp
Summary: Arya Starks escapes the events of the Red Keep on the day of her father's arrest and wanders the streets of King's Landing. One awful night she is saved by a handsome blacksmith, who invites her into his shop. The events of the Game of Thrones are changed when Arya never leaves King's Landing, instead she plans her revenge from the Street of Steel with a man she has more than familial feelings for.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Podrick Payne/Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark/Tyrion Lannister (mentioned)
Comments: 79
Kudos: 203





	1. The Escape

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on a what-if that I haven't seen done very often and thought I would give it a shot for this special event of the Gendrya Big Bang.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya escapes onto the street of King's Landing and meets someone unexpected

Arya reached up and wiped the sweat out of her eyes when Ser Meryn and a few Lannister guards entered the room. She frowned at them, what they could possibly want? She was positive she was finally about to defeat Syrio, which would have been a first. 

Syrio turned to look at the intruders and frowned.

“Lady Stark, you are to come with us. Your Father sent us.”

Arya nodded, ready to hand the blunted training sword to Syrio but he held out his own to block her path, “Why would Lord Stark send you and not his own guards?”

“Who are you to question me dancing master?” Ser Meryn replied, the sneer clear even behind the helm.

“I serve Lord Stark, I shall only take orders from Lord Stark. I shall take her to him myself.” Syrio replied, and Arya could see he was judging the skills of the men standing before them.

Ser Meryn did not like the answer, “Take the girl. Kill the Bravosi.”

“Run Arya Stark, find your Father.” Syrio said, nodding at the door at the back of the room.

“I can help you.” She pleaded.

“What do we say to the god of death?” He asked her, his sword at the ready as the guards advanced.

“Not today.” She said as she slowly inched away.

“Not today.” He replied and swung at the guards, disarming all of them in only a few moves. 

Ser Meryn angrily drew his sword.

“Run now.” Syrio yelled.

She did, and a few tears escaped her eyes without her permission. Syrio was sacrificing his life so she could get away. She did not know what Ser Meryn had wanted, but she was sure it was true what Syrio said. He had been her dancing instructor for two years now, he was her friend, and he was going to die for her. She wanted to turn back and help him, but what good was a blunted practice sword against a knight in full armor and live steel. She ran through the halls, she had learned them well in her years in King’s Landing, and headed toward the courtyard so she could run to the Tower of the Hand.

She saw the overturned wagon, and her clothes were scattered across the ground, as were the bodies of Poole and the servants. She held back a sob at the man she had known her entire life laying dead from a sword to the belly. Her eye’s caught her own trunk and she quickly dropped the blunted sword. She had a true sword hidden away. She stood with Needle in her hand, it would be the only thing she had to protect her now. She grabbed a discarded cloak and had just finished securing it around her neck when a sound caused her to turn.

“You are the Stark girl everyone is looking for.” 

It was only of the stable boys, he was probably only a few years younger than herself, but he was already taller. She looked him in the eye as he approached her, “Please, I can pay you.”

“The Queen will pay more.” He said and reached for her.

She reacted on the instinct that had been drilled into her by years of training and she stabbed out, Needle’s thin and sharp blade sinking into the boy’s belly. He stared at her with wide eyes before he fell to the ground, his breathing going still a moment later.

She felt her breath start to quicken, she had just killed a boy. The sounds of shouting snapped her out of her panic and she ran. She used the tunnel she had found once while chasing cats in the early days of her training that led down to the bay and left the Red Keep behind her. She didn’t know what had happened within the castle but she knew that her Father would have never let their men die had he been able to stop it. It wasn’t until she was breathing in the air of the bay that she stopped to think and she glanced back up at the castle. She had left Sansa behind. She closed her eyes and prayed to the gods, both the old and the new that her Father and sister were alright.

* * *

The streets were so much worse than she thought they’d be and she had already had a very low opinion. The first night, she had managed to find a small alcove to shove herself in. She barely slept, worried every sound she heard was a Gold Cloak looking for her. Once the sun rose, she found a new problem, she didn’t have any money. All she had was the clothes on her back and Needle. That meant she went hungry. The second night, she was less lucky. The place she found to sleep, deeper into the city and farther from the Red Keep, was less secure. A man found her and tried to take advantage of what he thought was a defenseless girl. She left his bleeding body in the alley and wandered through the streets until morning. The second day had gone much the same way as the first, she begged for mercy and was given none. After the events of the night before, she knew to find a better location for the night. 

She didn’t even get a chance before the two men had cornered her. They were big and drunk, she was able to smell the ale even from feet away, and they were not afraid of Needle. She managed to stab one across the face and stabbed the other in the leg but he managed to take Needle from her hand and threw it behind him. They sneered at her as they advanced, her back coming up against the alley wall. She took a deep breath, ready to scream and hope that someone would hear and come to her aid. The scream died in her throat as first one man and then the other fell to the ground, the sides of their heads caved in and bleeding.

She looked up, standing where the men had been was a large man. He easily had a foot on her and he was all muscle, that was clear even through the sleeves of his tunic. In his hand was a blacksmithing hammer, blood dripping from the end. He knelt down and picked up Needle, he examined the blade for a moment before handing it out to her. She reached for it but stopped, to grab it she would have to get within his reach. He seemed to understand her hesitation and tossed it her instead.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his voice gruff and deep.

She nodded, “Thank you.”

He shrugged, “Rapists disgust me.” He looked her over, his blue eyes barely noticeable in the dying light of day, “You got a place to stay?”

She shook her head, “Not anymore.”

“Better come with me then. The streets aren’t safe at night for anyone but especially not a young woman.” He said and turned to walk away.

She frowned, “Why should I trust you?”

“I did just save your life but the choice is yours m’lady.” He replied, not even bothering to turn around and see if she was following.

She huffed, he was a stubborn one, but she didn’t really have many options. She ran to catch up with him, “I’m Arry.”

“Gendry.” 

They only walked a few buildings down from the alley before he pushed open a door and gestured for her to go inside. It was a smithy, shut down for the night and cold. She shouldn’t have been surprised, given his choice of weapon.

She turned to look at him, “How did you know I needed help?”

“I was taking out the filth bucket and saw them chasing you into the alley. Came in, grabbed my hammer and decided to help.” He replied, locking up the door behind them, leaving the room in almost complete darkness except for a little light from the embers, “Follow me.”

He led her up a set of stairs to what was a small room, all it held was two cots, a trunk that sat between them, and a small table with a single stool. On the table was a wooden bowl and a tankard. Gendry lit a candle that sat on a little shelf on the wall before he took the tankard and dumped it into the bowl, water filling the space. He walked over to the trunk, opened it up and threw her a rag. He then stood back up, “I will get more water, you look like you could use a little bit of a wash.”

He was gone before she could respond, he had no mirror, but she could assume he was probably right. Spending three days without any kind of wash meant she was filthy, especially after having slept on the streets. She cupped her hands in the water and splashed it on her face before wiping it with the rag, it came away brown. She had never minded getting dirty before but she was pretty sure that it wasn’t just mud that was on her face. She repeated the process a few times, until she finally felt like she was clean. The water was now a disgusting brown color and she looked away from it in disgust. She noticed only one of the cots had a blanket, the other was completely bare except for the thin matress. She walked over and touched it, straw she guessed.

“That will be yours.” Gendry said as he walked back into the room, the tankard in one had and two cups in the other, as well as something wrapped in cloth. He set them down on the table before he picked up the bowl and took it to the window, throwing it without even looking to see if anyone was out below. He placed it back on the table and poured water into both the cups. He handed her one and kept the other for himself, sitting himself on the other cot. He laid the cloth on the top of the trunk and unwrapped it. Her mouth watered at the sight. 

“It isn’t anything special. Just a little salted pork I bought a while ago.”

She reached out and brought the piece of jerky to her mouth, chewing into the tough meat with more vigor than she’d ever had before. Gendry slowly worked on his own piece, his piercing blue eyes never leaving hers. She stared at him right back, except for the moments when she was eating or drinking. She didn’t even need to ask for a refill, he did as soon as he noticed it was empty.

Once they had finished, she smiled at him, “Thank you Gendry.”

“You’ve already said that.” He replied, shifting as though the praise made him uncomfortable.

“That was for saving him from those men, I know what they would have done to me.” She replied, “I was thanking you for the wash, the water, the food, the roof. Not everyone would be so willing to help a complete stranger like you have.”

He shrugged, “I doubt I can do much more for you though m’lady.”

She flinched, “I am not a lady.”

He gave her a look that told her exactly how much he did not believe her.

She sighed, “How could you tell?”

“Castle forged steel sword, even dirty your clothes are too nice a quality for anyone I’ve ever met in Flea Bottom, and, you talk all proper.”

“I can’t go back there and I have no way of getting home.” She admitted.

He frowned, “Who are you?”

“Arya Stark.”

“Your Father is...was Hand of the King.” He said, clearly not expecting that.

She nodded, “I escaped from the Red Keep, they killed…..everyone. I don’t know if my father and my sister are even still alive.”

“How did you get away?”

“I had found these tunnels that led out of the castle a few moons after I arrived. I remembered where they were and the guards weren’t able to follow me.”

Gendry was silent a moment, and Arya allowed it, she was sure that this was all a lot for him to comprehend. She doubted he had much interaction with highborns besides those that came to him for commissions. 

“Can you return to your home? The Starks are from the North right?”

She shrugged, “Even if I could get out of the city. I don’t know how I would make it all the way to Winterfell. I’d be safe with my uncle at Riverrun, which is closer, but still so far away.”

“You aren’t safe here either.” He commented.

She sighed, “I am just so tired. I don’t even know what to think anymore.”

He frowned, “Have you been on the street this whole time?” She nodded and he continued, “You can stay here until you figure it out.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.” She said in return.

It was his turn to shrug, “If you don’t mind getting your hands dirty, m’lady, you can help out in the shop.”

She huffed, “Don’t call me that and I am not above doing work.” Then she frowned, “I know almost nothing about blacksmithing though.”

He laughed, “Master Mott just kicked out his second apprentice and the shop boy. You can help replace the shop boy.”

“Why’d he get rid of them?” She asked, and thinking that it certainly explained why there was an extra bed.

“The apprentice smashed Mott’s left hand with a hammer, broke almost every bone in it. He might not be able to work anymore because of it. The shop boy was the apprentice’s younger brother.” Gendry explained before he looked her over, “If you tied up your hair, got you loose fitting clothes and kept your face dirty. Might be able to pass you off for a boy for a while.”

She nodded, “Jeyne always said I could be a boy, too ugly.”

Gendry snorted, “You are not ugly, which is why I said keep you dirty.”

She looked at him in surprise, “You really think that?”

The blush on his cheeks did not escape her notice, “We can figure it out in the morning. We should sleep while we can. Morning starts early on the street of steel.”

She nodded and settled back on the cot, it was lumpy and not the best quality, but it was better than the street and that was all she could hope for right now. The room plunged into darkness when Gendry extinguished the candle. She could hear him walking and then settling onto his own bed. She felt her eyes start to fall, and she couldn’t help but wonder why she felt so comfortable in this man’s presence. It was the last thing she thought about before she let the darkness take her into the first real sleep she had in three days.

* * *

Morning came faster than Arya would have liked, the sun streaming in through the single window, the threadbare cloth over it doing almost nothing to block the light. She groaned as she sat up, her body still not feeling like it had gotten enough rest. As she looked around the room she realized that Gendry had already gone, as his bed was empty. She slipped her boots back on and once again placed Needle on her belt before she pushed open the door. 

The smithy was not as she had last seen it, last night it had been cold and dark. While the front gate was still closed, the fire from the forge and the open window had brightened up the space. She guessed that Gendry must have already come down and gotten everything started for the day, an early riser indeed. She could not see the man in question though as she glanced around the shop. Instead she found herself looking at the various pieces of work that were laying on top of the benches. One held pieces of armor, while another held the parts of what she assumed would be a battle axe. A long sword though was what caught her attention most, it didn’t have a pommel or anything attached yet, only a piece of cloth around the end where that would go. The steel was freshly forged and only partly polished, but she was sure it was one of the finest swords she’d ever seen. She picked it up carefully, noticing that the edge had not been set, but she was sure it would still cause a wound if she was careless.

“Like what you see m’lady?” Gendry's voice said as he walked in, a large bucket of water in each hand. 

She watched as he went over to a barrel and dumped the water in, filling it to a hands breath from the rim. She placed the sword down, “Yes, it is very good work.”

“Thank you.” He replied and stacked the buckets by the door, “It took a lot of time to get it right.”

She looked at him in surprise, “You made it?”

“Who else?” He asked, not bothering to spare her look and instead he went about his routine, which seemed to be raking the coals at the moment.

She shook her head, “My apologies, I assumed you were still just an apprentice.”

“I am a full blacksmith, Master Mott pays me a right wage.” He said turning on her and he looked over and frowned, “I think I have an old tunic somewhere still.”

She glanced down at herself and then his words from last night, “Do you really think anyone will believe I am a shop boy?”

He shrugged, “Most people don’t pay attention to the shop boys. Don’t speak to anyone and your voice won’t give you away.”

She nodded, “What about Master Mott? Won’t he have an issue with you hiring me without consulting him?”

Gendry shook his head, “He is a good man, when you meet him, tell him the truth and I think he would have a way to help you. He told me not to expect him for at least a fortnight, he needs to rest his hand so it can heal.”

“He must have a lot of faith in you to not even feel the need to check up on you.” Arya added, taking down her braid so she could put it up in a bun. She noticed how Gendry’s eyes followed the movement and widened a bit before he seemed to catch himself and turn around. 

“I have been here near my whole life.” Was all he said to her statement.

She sighed when she was finished, “How does this look?”

Gendry turned and looked at her, shaking his head, “Still too much hair for a boy.”

She nodded and took down her hair once more and looked around, “Do you have any shears?”

“Whatever for?”

“You are going to cut my hair.” She replied, “If I’m pretending to be the shop boy is the only plan we got, and it is, then I need to play the part and I can’t do that with all of this.”

He nodded and walked over to a wall that was lined with a bunch of different tools. When he returned he had a pair of shears in hand, “We use these to cut the leather for the pommels, should work just as well on your hair.”

She took a deep breath, nodded and turned around, “Do it.”

She felt Gendry pull her hair into his hand, tugging it away from her body, “Are you absolutely sure about this?”

“It is just hair, it will grow back.” She replied and closed her eyes as the blades cut, if this what she needed to do to survive, then so be it.


	2. Life in the Forge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya gets used to her new life

The job of a shop boy it turned out was mostly just a lot of moving stuff from one place to another, make sure the water buckets didn’t run out, and keeping the fire alive. Pretending to be a shop boy was pretty easy. She had found a long piece of leather that Gendry agreed she could have, she used that and a cloth to bind her breasts, making them even smaller than they already were. Gendry has taken her old clothes and kept them in his chest, just in case she ever needed them again. Gendry had no reason to own a mirror, so it took her a few days until she saw her new hair. She had been polishing a breastplate, something easy that Gendry thought she could handle. He had cut her hair short but still left enough length to cover her ears, she thought she looked like Jon. People had always said they had a resemblance and it was so clear when they shared a haircut. Tears had pricked her eyes but she had pushed them down, no need to let Gendry see them and think her weak.

There were a few things she noticed about Gendry over the first days she stayed with him. First, he was a very focused worker, nothing besides a customer could pull him away. Second, he did not seem to really like other people, she noticed the other smiths talking with each other every once and awhile, but he did not. Thirdly, he was a simple man. Not that he was dumb, she was suspecting he was smarter than he thought, but that he just had simple tastes. He did not indulge in wines or ales and their meals were for nothing more than what was needed for substance. She wondered if he would mind if she started cooking for them. She did not have a lot of experience but she had been known as Arya Underfoot as a child, and that included being under the feet of the cooks. She was sure to have picked up a few things. He also never pressed her for information on herself besides her age, so she offered it up while they were sitting up in their shared room. She wasn’t even completely sure he was listening most of the time, but the silence unnerved her and he wasn’t offering up much conversation.

They fell into an easy routine of waking up, working, and sleeping. Arya was surprised at how simple it was for her to fall into this new life, she wondered if it would have happened so easily with anyone other than Gendry. On the sixth day of her new life, a knight walked in and Gendry went to greet him.

“The sword is finished Ser.” Gendry assured the man and walked off to the rack of finished weapons and withdrew the sword he had finished a few days earlier.

Arya stayed against the wall, her face down and avoiding eye contact with the knight. Gendry had insisted on it, saying that if anyone looked at her too long, they would realize she was a girl. She had long perfected watching people by using the edges of her vision. She watched as Gendry handed over the sword, the knight held it out, checking the edges and balance. She had inspected the sword herself, it was wonderful work.

The knight nodded, “This will do.” He then reached down and removed the coins from his pouch and handed over the coin. 

Gendry gave a small bow, “Thank you for your patronage Ser.”

The knight gave a small nod of acknowledgment before he slid the new sword into its scabbard and walked off into the street of steel.

She walked over and smiled at him, “How much was that sword?”

He held out his hand, “2 gold dragons.”

She frowned, “I would have thought it was worth double that.”

He huffed and walked into the small store room, where the books and lockbox were kept. He used the key and unlocked it before dropping the coins in, she could hear it clanking with others before he shut and put it back in the hiding place. He then grabbed a leather bound book and flipped to the current page, he seemed to look for something before placing a quick mark in one of the columns.

She studied the ledger upside down and did not think it was a very efficient system. She reached her hand out, “Can I look at that?”

His blue eyes raised up to look at her, “Why?”

“Running the numbers was the only thing I was ever better at than Sansa. Let me see.” She said as way as an explanation. 

He sighed and slid over the book, “Look all you want. I’m going back to work.”

She nodded as he walked past her, and she took the book back with her into the main space, it had better lighting. She frowned at what she was looking at, while she could see how the system had been put in place, she was right in thinking it was not the most efficient. She could fix that, it would help make it seem like she was earning her keep.

* * *

A fortnight passed and then it had been a full moon before she actually met Tobho Mott. He came in late in the afternoon one day. Gendry immediately stopped the polishing he had been doing on a pair of gauntlets.

“Master Mott.” Gendry said, and Arya could hear the respect he had for the older man.

“Care to explain Gendry?” The man said, and Arya could hear the foriegn accent in his tone.

“This is Arry, I hired him…”

“I am not a fool, that is very clearly a young woman.” He interrupted and gave her another once over, “Though, I do see how the disguise would work on someone not looking twice.” He turned back to Gendry, “I thought I had made the stance of whores…”

“She is not a whore.” Gendry said suddenly and Arya was surprised at the harshness in his voice.

Arya watched as the two blacksmiths stared at each other, Mott clearly was not used to Gendry back talking to him. She stepped forward, “Master Mott.” She waited until the older blacksmith looked at her, “Gendry is letting me stay here, work here, as a kindness. He saved me from some men that wanted to do terrible things to me. He didn’t feel right with me staying on the streets. He is a good man and he told me you are one as well.”

Mott seemed to consider her for a moment, “Who are you girl? You do not talk like some orphan girl Gendry just rescued off the street.”

“He did, but I am not from the street.” She took a deep breath, “I am Arya Stark, daughter of Eddard Stark, who was Hand of the King to Robert Baratheon.”

“Who is currently awaiting trial for treason, if the rumors spreading around are correct.” He said, his eyes watching her closely, “I met him once, he came here inquiring after something. You do share a look.”

“The Lannisters are looking for me, to use me as a hostage against my brother and the North I am sure.” She said, “My father loved King Robert like a brother, he would never commit treason. What Joffrey is saying is a lie.”

“How did you happen to come to be here?”

“The day my father was arrested, a member of the Kingsguard and some Lannister soldier came to collect him. Something did not seem right about the situation and I ran, they were not fast enough to catch me. I knew of a secret way out of the castle and I took it. Gendry found me on my third night out of the streets.” She told him, shortening the tale to only the important parts.

He thought for a moment, “You were lucky to not be raped and killed.”

She nodded, “I am sure that was the intention of the men that Gendry fought away from me.”

Mott turned to Gendry, “I am glad you have the morals to not allow such a thing to happen when you could stop it, but, why is she still here?”

Gendry did not hesitate for an answer, “I could not leave her on the streets and I was not going to hand her over to the Lannisters. I could not think of a safe way to get her out of the city. This is the safest place for her until we can think of a way to get her back to the North.”

“I have been trying to earn my keep. I have taken on the roll of the shop boy and have been helping clean up the books.” She told him quickly, before Mott could reply.

“Where have you been sleeping?” Mott asked her before saying, “What do you mean cleaning up the books?”

“I have been using the extra cot upstairs. Gendry has not touched me in any untoward way, if that is what concerns you.” Arya answered, before going onto the second question, “Your system was not the most efficient. I came up with a better one.” She went and pulled the ledger from the table where she had been working on it, “Here is the list of errors I have found. You are not charging enough for shields and short swords, making those items cost you money at the current rates. Full sets of armor and longswords net more, but those items are not requested enough to make up for the loss of the others.”

Mott looked at the numbers for a few moments, during which Gendry and Arya shared nervous glances. He eventually said, “How did you learn this?”

“I was taught as a girl.” She answered, “My maester said I was a natural at numbers and running a household.”

He sighed, “I do not like the idea of a highborn maiden sharing a room with my blacksmith but I am also not going to turn you over to the Gold Cloaks.” He looked her over, “You might have been able to fool people so far, but eventually this ruse of being a boy will not work.”

“What do you suggest we do then?” Gendry asked.

Mott shook his head, “I don’t know yet. Keep this up for now and I will think on it.” He then handed the book back to her, “I am going to trust you my lady.”

“Arry. We don’t want anyone to overhear.” She replied, indicating the still open entrance to the forge. She had been keeping an eye on the door while they talked and her voice low, no one should have overheard her declaration of her name.

“Arry it is. Welcome to my employ.” Tobo said and shook her hand, she smiled brightly at him, maybe she wasn’t as fucked as she had thought.

* * *

She woke up with sun, just as Gendry did, but her duties were minimal day to day. There was a small yard behind the shop, mostly used for storage, but also to have space to properly test some of the weapons before they were sold. She had taken up using the bow in the mornings and water dancing in the afternoons, she needed to make sure the skills she had spent so much time learning did not waste away. Gendry also gave her the task of taking on the weapon testing, which was nothing really more than swinging the swords for balance checks or making sure the arrow heads would fly right. 

One day, he handed her a set of six throwing daggers. She remembered the man that had commissioned them, something about him had seemed off, but his money was good and that was all that really mattered in this business. She had never used such a weapon before but she used the arrow target and threw the blades. She only got the sixth one to stick the first try and she spent the next few hours attempting her technique because she was certain there was nothing wrong with the blades.

“Arry, the man is here for those blades.” He called back to her through the open door.

She collected them and wiped them off with a rag, they still looked perfect, despite her lazy attempt to use them. She brought them out and placed them on the table before the man, he seemed to study her for a moment before he looked at the blades.

He picked one up and turned it between his hands, “A man is pleased with this work.” He said and handed Gendry the coins. He then looked to Arya, “Does a girl wish to know how to use them?”

“I am not a girl.” She said defiantly and could see Gendry tense as he is hand inched toward the hammer beside him.

“Of course not, a man must be mistaken.” He replied with a smirk that showed he very much still thought she was a girl, “Would a boy wish to know how to use them?”

“What would you get out of it?” Arya frowned, staring down the man.

“It is a lost art. A man would like to help in spreading it.” He said, and Arya thought his accent and manner of speaking was very odd.

They stared at each other for awhile before she said, “One lesson.”

“Show me the way.” The man replied and Arya led him out to the yard. The man stood before the target and grabbed the first knife from his belt, Arya hadn’t even noticed him put them away. He gripped the blade with his fingers near the tip, extended his hand behind his ear and then threw them with an ease that surprised her. The dagger landed dead center but the man had never taken his eyes off of her.

Over the next hour he showed her the movements while Gendry watched from the door, it was clear he had no trust for the man, and the man sensed it as well. He never moved to touch her, instructing her only through showing her and corrections with words.

He left with a nod to them both and disappeared into the crowds as evening fell over the city. Gendry started closing up the shop without a word and she logged the sale into the books.

As he finished up she said, “You didn’t trust him, did you?”

He shook his head, “Didn’t like the way he looked at you.”

“How did he look at me?” She asked, because she had noticed as well.

Gendry stopped across the bench from her, “I am not really sure, it was not the look men give to women they want to bed, but the look still had me on edge. It felt….predatory.”

She nodded, “We will not see him again.”

“You also have a new skill to practice.” He replied before turning back to cool down the coals.

She went to put the book away and couldn’t stop the smile on her face. She was lucky to have found a friend like Gendry. They could trust and protect each other, that was a hard thing to find these days.

* * *

It seemed it took no time at all to reach the second moon of her stay on the Street of Steel and she had started to hear rumors around the city. Her brother was not coming to bend the knee to Joffrey, instead he was starting a war in the name of their father. Stannis and Renly Baratheon had each also stylized themselves as the true King of the Seven Kingdoms. She thought that was taking it a bit far, how did Renly think he had a right to the throne when his elder brother was still alive?

She had learned all this because she had started venturing out into the streets, only during the day of course, and always with Needle on her hip. Gendry saved almost all of his wages, only using it for food at the taverns and bakeries. She thought they could save more if she started doing some of the cooking for them and had finally managed to convince him of it. That was how she became friends with the butcher’s son,Jeof, who reminded her of Mikah despite looking nothing like him, and the baker’s apprentice who went by Hot Pie. Lommy, a dyer apprentice, was the first to figure out she was really a girl. Saying he was trained to help dress people, he knew the difference between the frames of men and women, but he promised not to share that information with anyone. She befriended the orphan children she passed day to day on the street, wishing she could do more for them than just a few loaves of bread.

The largest change in her life came when she realized that she might have feelings for Gendry that went past the confines of friendship. She had simply mentioned in passing that her nameday would be in a fortnight, not really saying it for any reason other than the thought had came to her. He had not even really acknowledged that he had heard her and it was not brought up again.

Then, a fortnight later, she woke up to Gendry standing nervously by his bed. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, “Is everything all right?”

He looked over at her and then picked up a bundle off his bed. He handed it to her and said, “Happy name day Arya.”

She quickly undid the wrapping, inside were six beautiful throwing daggers. She picked one up and studied it, they were slightly smaller than the ones he had made before and she noticed at the hilt, a small wolf head had been etched. She felt the tears well up in her eyes and fought so they would not fall. She took a deep breath and smiled up at him, “Gendry, these are so beautiful, thank you.”

He nodded, “You needed something better than those leftovers you’ve been using.” He still seemed nervous, “I need to get to work, see you down there.”

She watched him leave in silence before she looked back down at the daggers, they were perfect and he had done it just because he could. She carefully got up and tucked them away, they would only be used for special occasions she decided, and needed to be protected until then.

As she got dressed for the day, she decided she would need to figure out when Gendry’s nameday was and do something just as special for him on that day. She tried to ignore the voice in her head that said she would not be around long enough for his nameday. Robb was coming for her after all or the Baratheon brothers would overthrow Joffrey. Renly had always been kind and polite when she had encountered him and from all she had heard about Stannis, he was gruff but fair. Neither had any reason to harm her, or Sansa.

She had sat down on her bed to tie her boots but the thought of her sister stalled her. She wondered what tortures Sansa was being forced to endure while being a prisoner of the Lannisters. She was a valuable hostage if they wanted to try and make peace with Robb and the North, she prayed to all the gods that would be enough. The wedding was supposed to have taken place by now but no announcements had been made that it was to take place soon or that the betrothal had been cancelled, at least none she had heard. Her father was also still a prisoner in the dungeons as far as she knew but it would only be a matter of time before that changed. She hated being in the dark but she was right to run, it was better for them to have two hostages instead of three.

She finished tying up her boots, there was nothing she could do for her father or her sister right now. She just needed to hope that those with the armies had a plan and would be acting soon. She would not let those thoughts cloud her day, not after she had been given such a thoughtful gift. Gendry was her family too now and she could do something for him, even if it was only as simple as helping out in the shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what the pricing on armor or swords would be, so i just made something up.


	3. The Execution of Lord Stark

On the 75th day of living at the forge, Arya had been walking back from the bakery, her goods safely in hand, when she started hearing the rumors. There was going to be an execution today, though word on who had not reached her ears. She continued on her way back to the shop, making sure to remember to remind Gendry that the knight would be stopping by this afternoon to pick up the new shield. She was just about to open the door to the shop when one of the orphans she had befriended came up to her, “Arry, did you hear? They are killing that traitor today.”

She frowned down at him, “Which traitor Olly?” 

“The old Hand.” He exclaimed and then more children ran by, “It is going to be at sept!” He yelled out before he raced off after the others.

She was barely able to keep her composure until she was through the doors but as soon as it was closed behind her, she collapsed to the floor. The cloth that held their tarts rolled away and she just watched it go as tears filled her eyes.

“Arry, what is it?” Gendry asked, kneeling before her. He gently placed his hands on her knees, “Did something happen while you were out?”

She shook her head and she watched his head pop up at the commotion that was going on outside as the news spread. Which was of course what Joffrey wanted, an audience for when he killed her father. The despair she had been feeling suddenly faded and was instead replaced with anger. She pushed herself to her feet, causing Gendry to lose his balance as he fell backwards.

She turned and ran out the door, not bothering to close it behind her and ignoring Gendry’s calls that followed her. She weaved her ways through the streets, the moons living within the city had taught her how to navigate the winding streets until she could see the sept. The square was already filled with the citizens of the city all yelling for her father’s head. She wanted to hate them, but she knew they were just going off the lies that were told to them by the crown. The smallfolk were not her enemy, that list consisted of the people she could see starting to gather at the top of the stairs. 

She had made it as far as the statute of Baelor the Blessed before the density of the crowd started to hinder her. She looked at the base of the statue and climbed up to get a better view. 

Standing up on the steps was Joffrey, Cersei, Littlefinger, Varys, a few members of the Kingsguard, and her sister. Sansa looked just as beautiful as ever but Arya could see the underlying tenseness in her sister’s posture. Her observations of her sister halted as Joffrey started speaking, spreading more lies.

Her eyes moved to the side when her father was escorted out by the guards. His eyes scanned the crowd and she could have sworn that his eyes locked onto her before he was pushed toward the waiting executioner. 

She could not let this happen. She could not let her father be murdered. She jumped from her spot on the statue and prepared to draw Needle from her belt when a large hand grabbed her forearm. She spun around, ready to strike out at the person who dared touch her, but it was only Gendry. She tugged, trying to shake off his hold, “Let me go. I need to help him.”

His grip only tightened, “What do you think you’ll be able to do against the Gold Cloaks and the Kingsguard?”

“I’ll kill them all if I have too!” She screamed at him, barely audible over the roars of the crowds.

He used his other arm to come and place it on her shoulder, his blue eyes staring into her grey ones, “Do you think that your father would want to engage in a suicide mission for him? Do you think he wants you to die for him?”

“...they have the soft hearts of women. Ser Illyn, off with his head.” Joffrey’s voice drifted to them before the crowd once again took up the cheers.

She went to turn her head, to get one final glance of her father, as she heard her sister’s screams. Gendry wouldn’t let her see, instead he tugged her forward, embracing her in a hug, her face snug against his chest. 

The world seemed to go silent as she listened to Gendry’s erratic heart beat. She watched a group of pigeons fly off as the crowd let out an even more intense cheer. 

“Bunch of vultures.” Gendry said quietly before he started pushing them through the crowds, leading them back to the forge. 

She did not fight with him and no longer tried to look at what would now be her father’s body. She just allowed him to lead her away. That did not stop her thoughts. If her father was dead, then Robb was now the Lord of Winterfell, and was currently in open rebellion. What would happen to him? What would happen to Sansa, now that their father has been executed as a traitor? What would happen to her? What did Sansa think had happened to her? Were they claiming she was dead? Did her family think she was dead?

She was so lost in her thoughts, she barely registered it when Gendry led her into the forge and then up the stairs to their room. He slowly lowered her to sit on the bed but she refused to release him when he attempted to stand. Her grip forced him to sit down beside her, and his arms held her in a comforting embrace.

The tears she had fought until then broke, streaming down her face as her chest started to heave from the sobs. Her father, the man who always had a smile for her, who had indulged her in the need to learn to fight, was dead. He had always been there for her and yet she had not been able to be there for him. She knew, deep down, that Gendry had been right. No matter the skill, no one could take on that many members of the Kingsguard, the Hound, and the Gold Cloaks and expect to come out of it alive. The thought made her grip him tighter, he was the only one she could turn to at this moment. She was sure she would remember Sansa’s scream for the rest of her life, the heartbreaking shriek and stabbed her soul. She should have been up there, standing beside her sister so they could comfort each other in this moment. She had never been close to Sansa, had never really given much thought to how much she would miss her sister once she was no longer around. Now, in this moment, she wished Sansa was here, so they could scream in their grief together.

She wondered what Sansa would so if their situations had been reversed, had Gendry found the elder Stark sister instead. Would he be comforting her right now instead? She couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her. Sansa would have never let a member of the smallfolk touch her, and without a weapon, she shuddered to think what those men would have done to her.

“I’m sorry about your father Arya.” Gendry whispered.

The words brought fresh tears but the sobs subsided, she gave him a squeeze, she was lucky to have him. She would do everything she could to make sure she never lost him.

* * *

Master Mott showed up that evening. Gendry had gone back to work while Arya had spent the rest of the day laying in her bed. He came up to the room with Gendry.

He looked at her sadly, “I am so sorry for your loss my lady.”

She nodded and sat up on the bed, her voice was rough when she said, “Thank you.”

“The rumors are spreading quickly that only one Stark daughter was present at the execution.” He said, and sighed, “I think the Lannister may start up their hunt for you again.”

“I don’t think they will ever give up, unless they assume I am dead in the street.” She replied, “Do you have an idea on how to get me out of the city and to my brother?”

Tobho shook his head, “They are watching the gates carefully and I do not have the coin to bribe all the guards we would need to.” He then looked at her, “I have thought of a different solution to keep you away from suspicion should they come looking.”

She noticed Gendry was shifting back and forth on his feet nervously and she assumed that he had already been told the plan. She took a breath, “What solution have you thought of?”

“I know it is not my place but I believe you and Gendry should marry.” He replied, “No one will be looking for Arya Stark, daughter of a great house, to be married to a bastard blacksmith on the street of steel.”

Arya wasn’t sure what to think, when she had woken up that morning, none of what had happened today had been in her plans. First, her father was murdered and now a man she barely knew wanted her to marry her only true friend in the world.

Gendry knelt before her, “It can be in name only Arya, I would never pressure you into doing any….wifely duties. I just want to keep you safe.”

Arya looked into his eyes and wondered how she had missed it. What they had ran deeper than friendship or sibling love. The way he looked at her now, his face open and more vulnerable than she had ever witnessed, that was how her father looked at her mother. She simply nodded, unsure what to say as she felt the feelings press on her chest. She did not have time to search those feelings right now, it would not be fair to either of them to do so when she was so raw.

Tobho nodded as well, “Good. I will find a septon tomorrow, we will say you are my neice. I will come back in a few days once I have the plans set.” He looked over at Gendry before looking back at her, “Both of you will need to get proper clothes. A nice, unstained tunic for you and a dress for you my lady.”

“I will take care of it.” Gendry said, giving her knee a squeeze before he got back up to his feet.

Arya was left alone again as Gendry walked Mott out. He didn’t return for some time, she assumed he had been closing up the shop. 

He handed her a wrapped parcel and sat down on his bed.

She frowned before opening it, confused at what it could be. The frown upturned, it was a meat pie. She looked at him, “You didn’t have to get me this.”

“You need to eat and you shouldn’t be eating shit today.” He replied before she noticed he had a second parcel too.

She pointed at, “That better be one for yourself as well.”

He opened it and she smiled, it was. He looked at her, “I knew you wouldn’t eat it if I didn’t get one for myself too.”

* * *

The first thing she did the next morning was go to Lommy and ask him if he could help her get a dress and a new tunic for Gendry. He thankfully didn’t ask too many questions and told her to give him a few days. She thanked him before heading off to Hot Pie, she wanted something sweet. Her mood had switched from despair to pure anger. Joffrey did not need to kill her father, he could have sent him to the Night's Watch. The idiot might have been able to avoid a war between three other people that way. 

The mood that had been in the streets yesterday had died down, everyone back to their normal routines. Though there were rumors that it wouldn’t be long before one of the Baratheon brothers laid siege to the city. Robb has no claim to the throne and wasn’t after it, she knew. He would just sue for peace with the winning Baratheon and demand the return of his sisters. She would take Gendry with her, he was going to be her husband and she would not leave him behind. Winterfell could use a blacksmith, for it was only a matter of time before Mikken grew to old to swing the hammer. 

She knew that Gendry did not expect the things all men expected from their wives, and while she was sure she was not ready now. She could not say she would not be ready in the future, especially if the current feelings she had for the blacksmith continued to grow. 

At Hot Pies she picked up a sweet roll for herself and a little tart for Gendry. She wondered as she left what her new friends would say when she started coming to them in a dress instead of breeches. She knew that Gendry would never expect her to conform to that style but she needed to keep up the appearances. The blacksmith”s wife that wore breeches outside the forge might draw attention they wanted to avoid. She was sure whatever Loomy found for her would be fine for day to day wear as well. There were not many small folk that had more than a few different outfits, not wanting to waste the coin. She needed to fit in, not stand out. 

When she made it back to the forge, Gendry had everything well underway, working on a full set of armor that had been commissioned a few days earlier. She placed his tart in a safe place before she began eating her roll. Her eyes roaming over the form of her betrothed. 

She had noticed before how strong and muscled he was, he would have to be with the kind of profession he had, but she had always made sure not to linger. She had had no reason to think that she could ever have Gendry, at least not in the lustful way. They were to be married soon however and that changed everything, it was also a welcome distraction from her grief. How did one tell their soon to be husband that sharing a bed would be perfectly acceptable to them? She wondered if perhaps he had not only said that for her benefit but for his as well. She had never been considered a beauty, not like her mother or sister or many of the other ladies that had been floating around at court. No one had ever stopped her to comment on her looks and as far as she was aware, no man had ever even looked twice at her. She nodded to her own thoughts, she was getting to the truth of it now. Gendry probably looked at her like a sister he needed to protect and no no interest in being with her. She took a deep breath, it was fine, she could deal with her feelings in secret, he would never need to know how she felt.

He turned then to place the now pliable steel on the anvl, he noticed her and gave her a smile before he got to work. He needed to shape it quickly before it cooled, from the size of the piece, she assumed he was working on a part of the shoulder guards. She looked away and continued to eat her small breakfast, the sweetness suddenly less appealing as her distraction began to fail and she thought of her father once again. The singing of the steel faded to the background as the imagine of her father standing up there, with Joffrey sneering beside him came back to mind. The last words she would ever hear in her father’s voice were lies. Lies said in an attempt to spare his life, and possibly Sansa’s as well. She would not have put it above Joffrey or Cersei to threaten harm onto her elder sister in an attempt to sway their father into speaking the lie, it was the best way to try to keep the kingdoms together. She felt wetness on her cheeks but paid it no mind. She did not think that Cersei’s plan would have the effect she wished, Renly, Stannis, the North, all would know that it her father’s last words were lies, a desperate attempt to save his daughter.

She looked up when she felt hands on her face, Gendry was gently wiping the tears from her cheeks as he looked at her. He gave her a small smile, “You do not to be here today.”

She shook her head, “I need to work, it will help.”

Gendry kneeled before her, and gulped, “When my mother died, I never gave myself time to grieve. I was sent here the next day and was put to work. Take the time to grieve your father Arya.”

The tears came again and he wiped them away. She then realized the intimate position they were in, with the doors to the smithy wide open. She looked back to him, “Gendry, people could see.”

He shrugged but still removed his hands, “Let them see, we will be married soon enough.”

“All those blacksmiths out there think I am a boy, if they see you touching me so they might have a few things to say.” She pointed out.

“I do not care for what those shits think of me, but I do look forward to seeing their faces when they all realize you’ve been a woman this whole time.” He said with a wry smile before he looked back at her, “I cannot force you to go back upstairs and grieve, but I am going to say I suggest it.”

She nodded, “I want to stay here, it is lonely up there.”

He gave her a sweet smile before he moved to get back to work. 

“Wait.” She said and picked up the tart, “I got this for you.”

“Thank you.” Gendry said and ate it in three quick bites. 

She laughed and was happy that something so simple could help her feel even slightly better.

* * *

Tobho came back three days later, he had found a septon willing to take a fair price but it needed to be today. Arya changed into the dress in the room while Gendry took his new tunic and went downstairs. When she finished, she took the cape she had had with her when he escaped, and put it over her shoulders. It was the closest thing they would have to a maiden cloak.

When she returned to the forge, she was happy to see that the black tunic she had gotten for him fit very well. Her own dress was a deep grey, a cheap color but she was happy it was one of her house colors. He had a black cloak over his shoulders that Arya had not seen before.

She smiled at the two men as they looked at her, “Is this acceptable?”

“You look beautiful my lady.” Tobho offered after it was clear Gendry was not going to say anything, he was looking at her like she was something marvelous. He looked them both over, “Everything is cooled down and locked, we need to go.”

Arya nodded and followed him out the door, Gendry coming last to lock the final door before they all started down the street. She noticed a few of the other blacksmiths were looking at them strangely but none of them seemed to care enough to ask questions. She was alright with that, she was sure that the next few days would garner more than a few.

She was not surprised when they did not head to the Sept of Baelor, which was really only for the highborns, but instead he led them to the merchant streets. There was a smaller sept built there for the middle rung of the populace. Tobho ushered them through the doors into the small building, she guessed maybe a hundred people at most could sit and listen to the septon at one time.

The man in question was standing at the altar, the seven gods spread out behind him along the wall. A woman was kneeling before the warrior, but what blessing she was asking for, Arya could not say. 

“Mr Mott, are these the young people you mentioned?” The Septon said as he looked them over, his white robes dim in the candle light. The sun was beginning to set outside and what light remained could not reach them.

“My niece and her betrothed.” He nodded and handed over a small pouch, the clanking of the coins audible in the otherwise quiet sept.

The Septon nodded, “You are both here freely and wish to bind yourselves together before the gods?”

“Yes.” Arya replied.

“Aye.” Gendry said more quietly and she had to resist the urge to look at him.

He looked back to Mott, “You are the only witness?”

“There are no other family members in the city.” He replied easily.

The comment made Arya briefly think of Sansa, who still had her own wedding to look forward to, only her’s would be nothing like this.

“Very well. I just need a few moments to collect the items needed for the ceremony.” The Septon said and disappeared through a door off to the side.

Arya looked at Gendry, “Are you alright? If you have changed your mind we can just go. No vows have been made yet.”

He shook his head, “I have not changed my mind. Septs just make me nervous.”

She wasn’t sure if she believed him but nodded all the same, if he said he was okay with this, then they would go through with it. Mott was right when he had said this was the best way to protect her, no one would look twice at the wife of a blacksmith when looking for Arya Stark.

The septon returned, “Your name lad?”

“Gendry.”

“Come stand with me over here. Mr Mott, you and your niece wait a few moments and then come join us.” The septon said, moving to stand between the altars of the Father and Mother.

Arya took a deep breath, this was it, when she left this building she would be a married woman. Mott grabbed her hand and placed it on his elbow, “I am sure this was never the wedding the expected my lady but I promise Gendry is a good man, he will look after you.”

“I never doubted that sir.” She told him and she meant it.

The septon gestured them forward. Mott walked them forward until she stood across from Gendry. The septon began saying the prayers, she followed where she could but the Seven had never really been her faith, having chosen to follow the old gods.

The he asked them to say the words. She looked to Gendry and she said, “Mother, Father, Maiden, Warrior, Smith, Crone, Stranger. He is mine and I am his, from this day until my last day.” She removed her cloak and Mott folded it over his arm before she turned and Gendry draped his own over her shoulders. She turned around and said, “With this kiss, I take you as my husband.”

He knelt down and their lips met for a brief moment before he pulled back and gave her a nervous smile.

“I now pronounce you one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. May the gods curse those that would try to tear you asunder.”

A clapping pulled their attention, the woman who had been praying had stopped to watch the marriage and was cheering for them.

Arya smiled at her and tilted her head in appreciation. 

The woman took the opportunity to come over, “Blessings to you both, I was pleased to be able to witness such a beautiful thing in these hard times.”

“Thank you maam.” Arya replied, her hand fitting into Gendry’s.

The woman just continued to smile, “Where are you two having your feast?”

“We aren’t having one.” Arya explained, “No coin or guests.”

“We cannot have that.” The woman exclaimed, “My husband and I run the tavern down the street. I insist you all come and celebrate, we even make our own pies.”

“We really don’t have the coin for that.” Gendry interrupted.

“I am a godly woman. The pies and ale will be on the house. I insist you come.” She said to Mott, “I am sure your Father would like to properly celebrate as well.”

“She is my niece.” Mott replied but then added, “We would be happy to take you up on your kindness maam.”

She beamed and turned on her heel, “Follow me then, the gods must have their revelry.”

* * *

She woke the next morning to a light in her eyes and a weight across her stomach. She panicked for a moment before she noticed all her clothes were still in place, minus her boots and the cloak. She blinked a few times and realized they were in their room above the smithy. They must have their way back from the tavern sometime last night. 

She slowly pulled herself out of his embrace, her bladder screaming at her for attention. The chamber pot was in the corner and she hoped she could relieve herself without waking him, usually she just used it when he was elsewhere. She watched him as she went but he didn’t even stir, which led her to let out a sigh of relief. She supposed they would need to get used to seeing each other in intimate moments, but she would save that for a different day in their marriage.

She quickly changed out of the dress and back into her normal clothes, only this time she didn’t bother to strap down her breasts. She was a married woman now, there was no need to hide. She smiled at the thought of how Hot Pie might react. She looked over at her sleeping husband, maybe this wasn’t the life she had thought she would have, but it was the one she had and she would do everything she could to make the most of it. No matter what she had to do.


	4. The Siege of King's Landing

Joffrey was a fool. Those were her thoughts when she heard of the riot that had occurred against a royal procession that had resulted in the death of dozens and had instituted a lockdown. He should know that the city was on edge and sections were starving. If he had any compassion for those he was supposed to be governing, then maybe a part of Flea Bottom would not have gotten set ablaze. All she could do was hope that her sister was still safe inside the castle as she went about her day and thought of ways to kill Joffrey for all his crimes. 

Rumors began to spread throughout the city, Renly Baratheon was dead. What was strange was that Renly had not died in battle, no, he was murdered in his camp, by a member of his own guards. He had a woman on his guard, Lady Brienne of Tarth. The reasons for her killing him varied from whether she was an assassin for Stannis or jealous that Renly had married the Tyrell Rose instead of her. Arya doubted either of those. She had never met Brienne of Tarth, but she had known Renly a bit. He was no warrior himself but he surrounded himself with them, he never would have put Brienne on his guard if she was not an excellent fighter. That is not the sort to kill in a jealous rage, especially over a situation that as being raised a Lady, she would have very well understood. 

Arya shook her head at the notion, the gossips could say what they wished about Renly Baratheon and Brienne of Tarth. What concerned her is what it meant for Stannis’ next move. Surely those houses that had supported Renly before his death now supported Stannis, meaning he most likely now had enough men to lay siege to the city. She had been buying supplies that could keep for long periods for moons now, even before the riots and curfew. Salted meats and root vegetables mostly but as the prices rose and the product declined, she knew she wasn’t the only one thinking this way.

Gendry made no comment as she filled their store room with food and drink. While neither of them were big on wine or ale, they needed something and that was all she could find.

She also realized that the King was also preparing for a seige, or at least his new Hand was. She had noticed on more than one occasion the Lannister Imp walking through the city, inspecting the walls and the like. He’d even commissioned many blacksmiths into a project, though of what, she did not know. She had hidden in the back when he came into their shop, from them he had requested nothing, and for that she was grateful. Though her time around Lord Tyrion was small, he was a clever man and would surely recognize her.

The children were who she was least concerned about, they knew all the best places in the city to hide. She knew that if the walls were breached, which she knew they could be, that they would find ways to look after themselves. What had not escaped her notice however was the new looks she received from the blacksmiths that held residence on their part of the street. She had commissioned a simple skirt and wore it with the old tunic and brace she had been wearing when Gendry found her. There was no hiding that she was a woman now and the other men had taken to leering. None would dare try anything though, she still kept Needle visible on her hip, and Gendry had a reputation. They all knew it had been him that had killed the men found in the alley moons ago but as with all things in King’s Landing, they remained silent on the offenses. 

The air in King’s Landing was getting tenser with each passing day. The Gold Cloaks had started rounding up the known thieves and a few other troublemakers. There also seemed to be an increase of sellswords in the city, walking around the streets. A few came in to purchase new swords or shields, no commissions, just buying the premade stock they always have on hand. She had noticed more than a few of those men watching her with a lecherous gaze, Gendry was always quick to call her ‘wife’ when such men were around. Trebuchets, catapults, and other anti-siege weapons are hastily built upon the top of the city walls. Tensions in the city were high and kept Arya on edge, choosing to not leave the forge unless to visit the well. She did not trust all the new men about, sellswords were not known for their honor.

The horns sound late one afternoon, while Gendry had been working on a new sword and she been going over the books at the bench nearby. Gendry was quick to shut the doors while Arya fetched the keys and locked the doors. Gendry had spent a day building new barricades for all the doors, wanting to do the best he could to keep out rioters and conquerors alike. She dosed the forge, having been taught how to do so over the course of her stay. They work in hurried silence securing the forge before the retreat upstairs to their room. They bar that door as well and sit down on the beds. 

They listen as the city panics around them, the window having nothing but a thin wooden board for covering. Something Gendry had only installed the previous day, not a moment too soon it seemed.

The room darkened as the little bit of sunlight that had filtered in disappeared. She got up and lit a single candle. As she set it down on the table, there was a flash of green outside the window followed by a large sound. She rushed to the window and peaked out through one of the slats, the sky above the bay was glowing brilliant green.

She frowned, “The sky is green.”

“Best to keep away from the window.” Gendry replied, not getting up to see for himself.

She did as he said and sat back down on her own bed, they had not shared a bed again since their wedding night. She turned to look at her husband, he was running a wet cloth over his hands, attempting to remove the soot, “Do you think we will die tonight?”

“The walls are strong, if the men guarding them don’t turn craven, then they should be able to hold out.” He replied but she could hear the hesitation in his voice

“If they don’t. Stannis’ men will pillage the city. Riva told me she remembers when the Lannisters sacked the city at the end of the rebellion, she was just a girl, but she saw people killed and raped all around her. I won’t be one of them.” Arya promised.

Gendry got up and sat beside her, taking one of her hands into his, “That will not be our fate.”

“We could die tonight Gendry.” She told him, looking into her eyes, “Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Of course it does! Do you think I want to die or that I want you to die?” He shook his head, “Those are the last things I want.”

“What is it you do want?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“No one has ever cared for my wants before.” He replied, not giving her an answer.

“If we are to die tonight, there is one thing I want before that.” She said, keeping it vague to see if he would catch on. When he remained silent, she said, “I want to know what it is like.”

He furrowed his brows, “I don’t under…”

She cut off his words by placing her lips over his, hoping her actions would also show her intentions. He was hesitant at first, she had caught him by surprise, but it did not take long for her husband to begin to kiss her most earnestly. 

* * *

Stannis was defeated, sent back limping to his island while the Tyrells declared their loyalty to King Joffrey. That part did not bother her, what did was that her sister was being thrown aside so Joffrey could marry Margeary Tyrell. While she had not wanted her sister marrying Joffrey, her betrothal to him kept her relatively safe. Now she would be even more a pawn in their game, a prize to be given to the highest bidder. 

A full moon passed but she heard no further rumors about her sister but word of the fall of Winterfell to the Ironborn did reach her. They had taken control of the castle and put all those that lived there to the sword, including the Northern princes. Gendry had held her close that night, trying to sooth her as she cried for her little brothers. She swore revenge on Theon and any other Iron Islander she could find if Robb didn't get to him first. 

The only real distraction she had from her grief and revenge soaked thoughts were at night, when Gendry would hold her close after they’d finished being intimate. While she enjoyed the act as well, her favorite was after. When their naked bodies would fold into each other and they would fall asleep wrapped in the other. Gendry was the first person to ever give her a sense of belonging and she would never regret her decision to be with him completely. He never commented about her training, and even made her weapons, but she wondered if he would feel the same way if she ever got the chance to follow through.

The alliance that the Lannister’s had made with Tyrells had reopened the city to food from the Reach and that lifted the spirits of the populace greatly. Arya had befriended a few woman at a whorehouse not far from Hot Pie’s bakery, they supplied her with moon tea and information. Their establishment was a favorite of the Lannister guards stationed at the castle, their location and rates were favorable. It was from these women that she learned that Sansa was going to marry Tyrion Lannister. Of all the options she had thought of, he had never been one she would have picked. 

“Why the Imp?” Gendry asked later when she told him over their dinner, a chicken stew she had made that morning and let savor all day.

“Sansa is the heir to Winterfell now.” Arya said, stirring the carrot that floated at the top of the stew, “Once they defeat Robb, they will install Tyrion and Sansa at Winterfell. Giving the Lannisters control of the North through the half-Stark children their marriage could produce.”

Gendry frowned, “If they defeat your brother.”

She shook her head, “I don’t know how he could stand up to the combined forces of the Lannister, Tyrells, and Martells. The rumors say he is heading back North to reclaim Winterfell. He does that, there will be no further battles in the Riverlands. The Ironborn did Joffrey a huge favor, he should thank them.”

He reached a hand across the small table and grabbed her hand, “Robb could still keep the North, he could still survive this.”

“The lone wolf dies but the pack survives.” She told him, it was a saying her father had told her once, “We never should have left Winterfell, if we had stayed, none of this would be happening. The realms would just be stuck with stupid Joffrey as King but there would not be a war.”

“Sansa might have still been betrothed to Joffrey. You would have been betrothed as well, as would have your brothers. You weren’t all going to remain in Winterfell forever.” He reminded her.

She sighed, “I know. I just hate all of this and I am useless. I sit in the forge counting money or cooking food or practicing with my weapons. For what? What is the chance that I will ever actually be close enough to Joffrey to kill him? Or Cersei? She barely leaves that castle after those riots.”

He lifted her hand up and kissed the back of it, “The opportunity will show itself one day and I know you will be ready for it when it does.”

“It really doesn’t bother you that I want to kill the King and his mother?” She asked, looking into his eyes as she did.

“I will help you do it in any way you need. The King has never done anything for me or for the people of this city. Joffrey is even worse than his father.” Gendry told her. 

She wished she could kiss him, but the table was still between them, instead she just said, “I love you.”

His smile took up his entire face, “I love you too, m’lady.”

* * *

The day of her sister’s wedding seemed to be a mostly quiet affair for the people of King’s Landing, just two highborns getting married. The space at the bottom of the steps were still crowded enough that she doubted anyone would see her, let alone recognize her. She wanted to catch a glimpse of her sister, even if it was just a moment before she was whisked away to the Red Keep for her wedding feast. She hoped that given the Imp’s experience that at least the bedding would not be too horrible for her, surely a man that had been in the company of many whores knew how to pleasure a woman.

The bell rings six times, one for each god, minus the Stranger, who is not welcome at weddings, and waited for the doors to open. It was custom for the bride and groom to bow before the subjects that witnessed the wedding before going to their litters. Arya was stationed as close to said litters as she could get. Tyrion and Sansa appeared at the top of the stairs, cheers and boos rose to meet them. Not many cared for the Lannister Imp and the traitor’s daughter. 

They rushed down the steps, Sansa’s gown and the heavy cloak on her shoulders making the descent difficult, but they kept her longer legs from outpacing her husband. Arya wished Sansa would look up, just a glance at the crowd and maybe they could lock eyes, like she did with their father. But her sister kept her eyes down, watching her steps so she would not embarrass herself in front of the kingdom. 

The pair reached the bottom of the stairs, the guards keeping the smallfolk at bay. Tyrion did a quick glance and she thought she saw pity in his eyes. Sansa disappeared into the litter, her eyes never once looking up to see her sister looking back at her. 

Arya frowned in disappointment and disappeared further back into the crowd, not wanting to be seen by the other members of the Lannister clan that were now making their way to their own nearby litters. Joffrey got into a litter all his own, it was a complete box, with a door that latched. Arya had been studying it while she had waited, looking for weakness in the wooden structure designed to protect the King from those that would do him harm. 

She was one of those people, one of the special daggers Gendry had made her sat in the special pocket she had made for it in her skirt, ready to be used. She looked around, today was not going to be her day. As she eyed the litter, while the crowd cheered for Lady Margeary, their future queen, an idea formed her in mind. She smiled and blended further back into the crowd, she had a plan to make with Gendry.


	5. The Death of King Joffrey

Arya's plans for Joffrey came to a screeching halt when she visited Emma’s tavern, the older woman had become almost an aunt for her since their meeting at Arya’s wedding. There were some soldiers inside when she went by early that afternoon, which suited Arya just fine as it gave her a direct source for her gossip from the castle. That was not what she heard that day as she took her normal seat and waited for Jenna, the tavern wench, to fetch Emma. 

“Did you hear about what happened at the Twins?” One of the men said to the others.

She focused her ears on the conversation, house Frey held the Twins and were currently subjects of her brother.

“No, I was on gate duty all night. Nothing exciting ever happens there.” A second man responded.

“I was on the Queen’s detail this morning. I overheard the discussion with the King and the Imp. Robb Stark is dead. Killed at his uncle’s wedding.”

Arya immediately felt her heart beat increase, that couldn’t be true. Robb could not be dead.

“At a wedding?” The third man asked.

The first man nodded, “Edmure Tully married one of Walder Frey’s daughters. During the bedding, Lord Walder and his family killed Robb Stark, his mother, and his wife. Along with a good deal of his bannermen I am sure.”

“How did you get so much information?” The third man asked, clearly skeptical of the information.

“The King told it all to the Imp.” He replied, “I was standing right there, not hard to overhear.”

“Is the war over then? Stannis is hiding on his island. Renly dead. Stark dead. The Greyjoys should be easy to finish off now.” The second one said.

“It has to be close.” The first agreed and raised his glass, “To the end of the war!”

“To the end of war!” The other two cheered and Arya rushed out of the tavern. She vaguely thought she heard Emma calling after her but she needed to get back to Gendry.

As she rushed through the streets, she could hear the rumors of her brother’s death floating around her. Some had even started to say it was a ‘red wedding’ and she fought to keep not only her tears but her tongue at bay.

Gendry was already waiting for her when she arrived, his eyes sad as he held her to his chest. She cried violently into his apron, not caring that were standing in the middle of the forge and anyone could see. She could be crying about anything for all they knew. When she calmed down a bit she asked, “How did you know?”

“King Joffrey made a formal announcement. The Gold Cloaks were spreading it around the city. Lord Walder Frey and Lord Roose Bolton are true heroes to the realm they said. I don’t think you could do something anymore cowardly than to murder guests at a wedding.” He replied, his arms never loosening their hold on her, “I am so sorry my love.”

“It is just me, Sansa, and Jon now. If Jon is even still alive, the Wall is a dangerous place. House Stark is dead.” She said, bitterness falling into her tone.

“It is not dead. You are still here.” He said, and she was surprised with the conviction in his voice, “The gods will ensure that House Stark reigns again. Did you not once tell me that guest right is sacred? They will not let this stand.”

“I thought you had no use for gods, old or new.” She whispered.

“I don’t, but you do.” He replied, “Your wolf dreams are the proof I needed.”

“Animal dreams now. I’ve started dreaming of being a cat now sometimes.” She replied and pushed away, “It could just mean I’m cursed. Some scary creature from one of Old Nan’s stories.”

“You have the blood of the First Men, who knows what power that might have.” He assured her.

“When did you get so poetic about gods and magic?” She asked but really shouldn’t have been surprised that he had been listening when she spoke to fill the silence. 

“Since the gods gave me the best gift I could have ever imagined.” He replied and laid a kiss to her forehead, “You.”

“They sent me to you. I believe that.” She told him and then nodded, “I will kill Joffrey for this. For everything that has befallen my family, he will not get to live a long and healthy life. His reign will be short.”

Gendry nodded, “Long live the king.”

“Long live the king.” She sneered.

* * *

She wondered if she had just gotten used to the grief, she did not cry as much for her mother and Robb as she had for her father and younger brothers. Or perhaps she was just channeling all of her energy into her plan for revenge. She spent most of her day studying the walls of the Red Keep, looking for a way inside, there was none besides the way she had gotten out. Joffrey rarely left the castle, only if he was needed at the sept. He was planning a wedding. She was sure that it would be a much grander affair than what had been for Sansa and Tyrion.

The wedding was only a sennight away when she had her opportunity. Lady Margeary had halted her litter and gotten out to visit an orphanage. Joffrey remained in his own, but he had lifted the rear guard so he could look out to see what his betrothed was up to. He spoke to the guard behind his litter and before he could close the slide, Arya threw her dagger and it slipped through the cracks. She smiled, even if she had not hit her mark, he was certainly scared.

Joffrey did not jump out of the litter demanding the head of the person who threw the dagger. Instead, Margeary returned to her own litter and then both disappeared down the street.

Has she walked home, she wondered if she had managed to hit her target cleaning or if she had simply wounded him and he had passed out from the shock. Joffrey was weak and such a reaction would not surprise her.

She returned to the forge and Gendry looked up and squinted at her, “What is that look for?”

She smiled and slid up next to him, he was only working on a mold, “I think I was able to get him.”

He frowned and before his eyes went wide, “You mean the king?”

The last words were barely loud enough to be heard but she did, “They stopped and he opened up the window. I cannot be sure until they make an announcement but the dagger was not embedded outside the litter and Joffrey did not scream that someone tried to kill him. I might have made the perfect shot.”

His eyes moved to the street, nothing was different, “I wonder how long it will take for them to start searching for the killer?”

She shrugged, “Probably not long. Cersei and Tywin will want to make a show of it. I have angered the lion’s den.”

He nodded, “The gods’ revenge is how I see it.” He leaned down and kissed her, “News will spread soon, my little wolf assassin.”

She smiled at him, “You’re the bull who made it all for me.” She replied, her eyes flicking to a bull helm that hung prominently in the shop, a show of his skill.

“I’ll make you as many weapons as you need m’lady.” He promised her.

She leaned into his embrace, and looked out to the street, “Things will be different soon. Tommen will be a much different king.”

“Hopefully a better one.” Gendry commented.

She nodded and thought of the young boy she had just forced into adulthood. He had always been sweet and fond of cats. That was all she could remember of the younger prince, she hoped that was enough for a good king, or at least he had never been cruel that she had seen. 

“Long live the King.” She whispered and let a smirk fall onto her lips. Now she just needed to get Cersei and Tywin.

* * *

Joffrey’s funeral was something that Arya had been happy to miss, she had no desire to stand outside a sept again for just a chance to glimpse her sister. No, she had a new skill she was trying to learn. Seeing through the eyes of the cat that she had taken in to keep the rats at bay. The cat dreams were different but similar to the wolf dreams. In the wolf dream, she felt as though she was the wolf, running through the trees with her pack around her as she feasted on the bodies of the men that were trying to destroy the land. In the cat dreams, she knew she was a woman, but she was seeing through the eyes of the cat as she stalked her prey in the depths fo the night. She had named the cat Silver, for it was all grey with little white streaks. A memory from one of Old Nan stories had started her on her current path. There were those among the First Men that were told to be able to see through the eyes of animals and control those animals to do their biddings, wargs she thought they were called. Perhaps that was what she was. Her wolf dreams were not just dreams, but her seeing through Nymeria’s eyes. Nymeria was too far away to be any help to her now, but maybe she would get to see her direwolf again one day.

Silver was close, so he would be Arya's test subject. She started in her dreams, seeing if she could convince Silver to go left or to jump up on table. It took her many nights to finally force her control over the cat and to get him to do as she wished. Once she had conquered controlling the cat in her dreams, when her mind subconsciously connected them, she worked on trying to do it during the day. She spent hours each day trying to form the connection with Silver but the cat just remained napping in the basket Arya had given him. She wanted to get this right, then she could use Silver to get into the castle, she could see what was going on.

“You need to take a break.” Gendry said, breaking her concentration.

She shook her head, “I need to do this.”

A plate dropped in front her, some carrots and salted pork sitting on top of it, “You need to eat.”

She sighed and took a bite of the meat, “If I can do it while I sleep, I should be able to do it while I am awake.”

“I am sure it is like any other skill and takes time to master. You are also self teaching, that has to take more time than someone telling you how to do it.” He pointed out, sitting across from her at the table, “Exhausting yourself isn’t going to help anyone.”

“When did my husband become so wise?” She teased but she knew he was right.

“Wisdom comes with age, or so I’ve heard.” He replied with a shrug.

She loved how open he had become with her. When they had first met, she had easier time getting the walls to tell their secrets than she did him. Now, he spoke freely and without fear. She wondered sometimes if anyone was still even looking for Arya Stark. Did anyone care about the lost daughter of Eddard and Catelyn Stark now that they were dead?

She shook her head, now was not the time for the dark thoughts, “I am glad my magic does not scare you away.”

“I do not scare easy m’lady.” He teased back.

The bells rang in the distance and he looked back at her, “Our new King has a new Queen.”

* * *

It took her a few weeks but she finally managed to get Silver to listen to her while she was awake, Gendry said her eyes lost color and turned milky white whenever she was in the cat. 

She manoeuvred Silver through the streets, avoiding the dogs, and people that would eat her if they caught her. She led the cat all the way to the Red Keep. The guards were looking at keeping people out, not cats, so it was easy for her to slip in the front gate and then the first door she found. Her problem became then, that she did not know where her sister’s chambers might be. She was sure to have been moved out of the Tower of the Hand. 

After a few moments of thought, she made her way toward the royal apartments. Even if Sansa wasn’t there, maybe she could overhear something useful. It really didn’t surprise her how no one gave the cat a second look, there were many spread throughout the castle. She just stayed out of the way and continued on her journey.

A servant left out a door on the right of the hall and voices drifted through, “...your wife?”

“Yes grandfather.” Tommen’s voice answered, and she slipped inside, hiding under a table as she looked at the men.

“Good, good.” Tywin said and placed a hand on his grandson’s shoulder, “The sooner you get a son in her belly, the stronger your reign will be. Heirs make people feel more comfortable.”

Tommen nodded, “I feel like I should be doing more, as King, than just bedding my wife.”

Arya did not like the look on Tywin’s face as he answered, “You are the only one that can do this practicular duty. Let me and the small council handle the rest for now.”

Tommen seemed disappointed with the answer but nodded before he asked, “What of Uncle Tyrion? With you and Uncle Kevin here, shouldn’t he go and take over Casterly Rock?”

“Did he come to you with that notion?” Tywin asked and Tommen almost seemed to flinch at the tone.

“No.” He answered hestantily, “I was just thinking of it when I saw him and Sansa this morning. I thought they might both benefit from some time away from the capital.”

“You have a good heart.” Tywin said, and Arya did not think he meant it as a compliment, “We need to keep Sansa close, where we can keep an eye on her.”

“Why?” 

“That dagger that killed your brother had a direwolf etched on it. A Stark supporter was to blame for your brother’s death and they wanted that known. The Boltons are too new to their control of the North to be able to prevent an uprising if there was one.”

“I thought that was why you sent Arya to them.” Tommen replied, and that caused Arya herself a shock, she was right here.

Tywin shook his head, “There is still one man out there with Stark blood, if the North were to back him, then they would once again be lost to the crown. We gave Roose Bolton a Stark girl, and his son has the same purpose as you now. Get the girl with child as soon as possible.”

“What if he doesn’t and the North rebels?”

“That is why we need to keep Sansa close. Once she has Tyrion’s child, we can always oust the Bolton’s from Winterfell and place Tyrion and Sansa there instead, to keep the realm together.” Tywin explained, and gave Tommen a firm smile, “Do you understand?”

“Yes Grandfather.” Tommen responded.

Arya frowned, Tommen was not cut out for the cutthroat way of the crown, Tywin was the one truly in charge of the kingdom now. She had given him the perfect opportunity when she killed Joffrey.

“Good, I have a small council meeting now. Your Grace.” Twyin replied before giving Tommen a bow of his head and walking toward the door.

Arya rushed after him, making into the hallway before the door shut. Tywin sneered at her but continued on his way, muttering about too many bloody cats. She followed from a distance, not worried he’d be suspicious, but that he was the kind of man to kick a cat that was too annoying for his tastes.

“Lord Baelish.” Tywin said suddenly, causing Arya’s ears to once again perk up and she slinked closer as the two men came to a stop in the hall.

“Lord Tywin.” Littlefinger responded, “I apologize for my long absence but I have successfully managed to bring the Vale back into the support of the crown.”

“By marrying Lysa Arryn.” Tywin replied, his tone showing his displeasure at the idea.

“Yes, my lord, Lysa insisted and I could see no reason to refuse her.” 

Tywin stared the man down, “I do hope that you know your place my lord.”

“My place is wherever you want me to be, my lord Hand.” Littlefinger was quick to claim.

“Remember that.” Tywin replied and the pair walked off, heading toward the Tower of the Hand.

Arya did not follow them, she was not here for them, she was here for her sister. She instead took a turn and started peaking into rooms, hoping to find her sister’s bed chambers. Sansa was the only family that Arya knew for sure was still alive. Though, Tywin’s worry about the North rallying behind Jon at least indicated that Tywin thought her brother was still alive. She remembered a day after they’d gotten into a fight that her father had sat her down and explained that one day she and Sansa would need each other. That day was now, the Stark sisters would find a way to save themselves and then return to Winterfell, which was theirs by right. 

A door opened suddenly to the right and her cat instincts made her shrink back, it was just a maidservant. The woman turned back into the room, “I shall get you some lemon cakes.”

The woman walked down the hallway, the door was still slightly ajar, and Arya used that as her chance to slip inside. If cat’s could smile, she would be because sitting at the window seat was her sister. Her red hair was done up in a way she had seen many a lady wear it lately, probably a style made popular by Queen Margery. Arya was weary as she approached her sister, she could not remember what Sansa’s opinion was on cats. Once she was close but still a safe distance away from a kick, she let out a little ‘meow’.

Sansa startled and looked away from the window, her eyes searching a bit before landing on her furry form. Sansa frowned, “How did you get in here?”

She let out another ‘meow’.

Sansa’s frown slowly turned and she got up, going slowly as if worried that Arya might startle. She held her ground and when Sansa held out her hand she gave it the sniff, she knew what her sister was looking for and then rubbed her head against it. Sansa’s smile widened and she gave her a pet, “Did the gods send you to comfort me? I have been so very lonely.”

Arya wished she could hug her sister, an emotion she could never really remember having, the closest thing she could do was cuddle up to her. The seemed enough for Sansa. She picked up the cat and held her close, “You are a sweetheart I see. Would you like to stay with me? I am sure I could be allowed a cat as a companion. I will make sure you are well groomed and well fed while you keep me company. Does that seem a fair trade?”

Arya let out a little ‘meow’ and decided that she would leave Sliver with Sansa. Her sister needed the companionship more than Arya, she had Gendry. She stayed with her sister until the maid returned with the lemon cakes and then took her leave, but not before placing a command in Sliver to stay with Sansa, she hoped it would work.

She came back to herself and looked up at the ceiling, she felt the dried tears on her face as she breathed. Her sister was alive in her gilded cage but it was still a cage, and a lonely one at that.

“Did you find her?” Gendry’s voice asked her.

She turned to see him sitting at the foot of the bed, “I did. She is so lonely and all I could do was give her a stupid cat.”

“Do you think it will help her?” He asked, his hand rubbing a circle into her calf, she nodded, “Then a stupid cat will have to be good enough until we can find a way to get to her.”

She let out a long sigh, “I know. I just…..” She shook her head, “I do not even know. Sansa is good at many things, she was always better, but I am not sure she could handle this life.”

He moved up the bed and placed a hand over where hers laid on her stomach, “Do you believe that what we are doing is right?” She nodded, “Then believe that your sister can handle her life now and worry about the future when it happens.”

She smiled at him, “How can you always be so sure about all of this?”

“My life has never involved much planning for the future beyond the next meal or the next sword. You are the only who worries about the future, I will do my best to keep you in the now.” He replied and leaned forward, she easily met his lips for the kiss. He slowly pulled back, “Are you going to stay up here or come join me in the shop?”

“I’ll be down in a moment.” She answered, “My legs need to wake up.”

He chuckled as he got to his feet, giving her one last smile before he disappeared out the door.

She took a deep breath and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, the tingling sensation brought on by the movement shot through her body but she did not mind. Gendry was right, she was always so focused on the future that sometimes she forgot about the present. While her sister might not be any closer to be released from the clutches of the Lannisters, she had given her sister a comfort. Sliver, or whatever the cat’s new name would become under her sister, would give Sansa some joy. That was what she needed to remember, and with that thought she got to her feet and made her way downstairs.

* * *

She was stalking the halls, she had left her new mistress to her dreams. She liked her mistress, she cleaned her fur, gave her good food, and a comfy place to sleep. She was not sure what to think of the man though, short and reeking of the strange drink. Mistress did not seem to hate him but she did not like him either. The former mistress had named him Sliver, this one had chosen the same. She did not care what they called her, as long as they did not kick, she did not like the kicking.

A man appeared in her path, the one she had seen that morning before finding mistress. He smelled foul and seemed the type to kick. He was looking at some paper in his hand, not properly watching his feet. She watched him approach the stairs, the same she had been planning to use to hunt for mice, a treat for mistress. Instead, she ran forward, cutting in between his legs. There was a slight kick but his balance was lost and he took a tumble down the flight of steps while she hid. The man made no noise from where he lay at the bottom of the stairs, his fall had caused many noises. 

She waited and soon enough a guard came forward, it took less time for him to start up a shout, “Come quick, the Lord Hand is dead!”

Arya sat up with a start, the movement dislodging Gendry and waking him as well.

He looked around, “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head, “Tywin is dead.”

He frowned, “How do you know?”

“Sliver took care of him.”

Gendry settled back down into the bed, “Not a stupid cat after all then.”

She curled up into him with a smile, “No, not stupid at all.”


	6. The Problem with Faith

Tywin Lannister was not a man well liked by the citizens of King’s Landing, many were old enough to have lived through the sack at the end of the rebellion. There was no mourning for the Lord of Casterly Rock in the streets and that suited her just fine. What did not suit her was a sudden rise in what appeared to religious zealotry.

The High Septon, a man who was supposed to be the most devout and holy, was dragged naked from a brothel and forced to walk naked through the streets. Those that had done the deed were called ‘Sparrows’ and were taking issue with anything in the city that they deemed to not follow the teachings of the gods. That included a man who frequented the use of whores to his pleasure and wore the opulence of wealth, when he should be serving the gods.

She heard all of this from her orphans, who had also informed her of a man known as the High Sparrow. He was an eldery man who wore shoes and served soup to the poor from a small space in Flea Bottom. She couldn’t help but wonder what the crown would do about such a man. She did pay them too much thought beyond that, she took no issue with the Faith of the Seven, she just preferred her own. 

She rapped on the door to the Shining Peach at the back entrance.

Sally opened the door quickly and pulled her inside, “You might want to stop coming here Arry.”

Arya corrected herself, checking the goods were still safe inside the basket before asking, “What are you talking about?”

“Those sparrows have been hovering around.” She said, “They don’t take well to the things we do here. Master Rahl is getting very unnerved by it. If they would dare attack one of Littlefinger’s places, what stops them from doing the same to us?”

Arya nodded, she could see how that would be a concern, “Here, take the basket.”

Sally set it aside and then handed her the pouch, “I tried to get as much as I could for you, but depending on how much you lay with your husband, might only last you two moons.”

She slipped the pouch into her pocket, “If I get with child after that, then the gods willed it.”

Sally pulled her into a hug, “Stay safe Arry.”

“You too.” Arya replied before they broke apart and she went back out the door.

She looked around the street as she did, catching sight of two men in black robes staring at the building. They seemed to be watching the main entrance and paying the other door little mind, so she slipped away unseen.

Her thoughts ran wild as she went over Sally’s words, what was to stop the Sparrows from continuing their attacks? From what she could see nothing had been done to them for what had befallen the High Septon. There was even rumor that the High Septon might be removed from his office, a strange circumstance indeed. She felt he should be lucky he hadn’t been killed like the last one.

* * *

Gendry was quiet as they ate their dinner in Emma’s tavern. They tried to come at least a few times each moon. Her own children were lost to her and she seemed to enjoy talking with them like a mother would. Arya knew some of this made Gendry a bit uncomfortable, he didn’t really remember anything about his own mother, just that she would sing to him and had yellow hair. Arya found the woman’s attention unnerving a bit at first, but with her own mother now gone, she took comfort in knowing that if she needed, Emma would offer her the right advice. 

Tonight the tavern was only speaking about one thing, the High Sparrow and his new Faith Militant. The Faith Militant had been outlawed by the Targaryens, long ago, but it seemed that someone in the Red Keep thought it was a good idea to allow them free reign again. Arya did not agree. She and Gendry never engaged in the conversations of the other patrons, they remained secluded to themselves. Every once and awhile Hot Pie or Lommy would join them, having been invited by Arya. Gendry spoke to them as little as necessary but she caught small smiles he let loose at their antics every once in a while, and knew he didn’t really mind her friends. 

“What might they go after when they are done with the whores?” She heard a man at the next table ask his companions. 

A different man grunted, “Never really bothered to learn much from the Seven Pointed Star, how the fuck am I supposed to know?”

“The unclean will suffer.” A third man said, “Once they are done with the whores and whoremongers, they will go after those that abuse their powers.”

The second man snorted, “They should go to the Red Keep and rout it out then. Incest and all kinds of suffering happen there.”

“Goning to have start fucking my wife again if they shut down all the whore houses.” The first man said, causing the other two to laugh again.

She noticed that Gendry was clenching his fists, clearly he had been listening to the group of men as well. She reached across the table and laid her hand over his, giving him a small smile of reassurance.

“The Queen should be shaking in her fancy dress. Only a matter of time before the High Sparrow goes after her. Going behind her husbands back to fuck her own brother, they have to take issue with that.” The third man said.

“Highborns got nothing to worry about that, they just buy their way out of everything.” The second man replied.

The third manned hummed, “The High Sparrow don’t care about none of that. All are equal in the eyes of the gods.”

“Have you gone to listen to his preaching?” The first man asked.

“I wanted to see the man for myself.” The third man replied.

“You are idiot Marv, that man ain’t anymore holy than the last High Septon. He just putting on a show.” The second man before slamming his tankard down, “I am going to get out of this shit city before these sparrows tear the city apart.”

“Where you going to go?” The first man asked, “You ever been out of King’s Landing before?”

“I haven’t but they are always hiring on those fishing ships, anything to get me far away from here. This city is going to burn.” He replied.

“Good luck with that.” The third man said, and all the men fell into silence.

Gendry squeezed her hand and she looked up to meet his eyes. She could see the concern in his blue orbs and knew they would have a discussion about all they heard when they got home.

* * *

Arya was going over their inventory while Gendry tempered the steel for a new sword when Master Mott walked in. He came by every once and awhile to check on the progress of projects and the money, but Arya had not been expecting him again so soon.

Gendry noticed him as well and she saw the frown on his face, “Is something wrong master Mott?”

“How much have the two of you heard of the new Faith Militant?” He asked after making sure no was lingering around outside, but foot traffic was low due to a rainstorm.

“We have heard that they are taking offense to anything that they feel is not in line with teachings of the Faith of the Seven.” Arya replied, “They’ve expelled or killed those of other faiths from the city and attacked all the whore houses.”

“Things are probably going to get a lot worse. How well stocked are the two of you on food?” He asked then.

Arya shared a glance with Gendry before answering, “We keep a good share of rations since Stannis’ attempted siege. We could probably last three weeks if we had too.”

“Good. The Faith have arrested Queen Margeary and Ser Loras.”

Gendry commently turned from the forge, “The arrested the Queen?”

Master Mott nodded, “For lechery.”

Arya frowned, “Was the Queen caught abed with a man that was not the King?”

Mott shook his head, “It is not the Queen accused of lechery but Ser Loras, the Queen is accused of knowing of his sins and not reporting it.”

Gendry growned, “Is leachery a fancy word for fucking?”

“Yes.” Arya said quickly, “I cannot feel that the crown is taking well to the Queen’s imprisonment.”

“That is why I came to caution you. If the Faith feel they have the power to arrest the Queen, there is no one that they cannot touch.” He replied, “The Tyrells are also the only reason we are being fed. With the heir to their house in chains, gods only know how they might react.”

Arya nodded, “I should run to the market, buy extra supplies before the news spread through the city.”

“Be careful Arry.” Gendry said as she moved toward the door.

She patted Needle’s handle, “I always am. I will try to not be too long.” She grabbed a hooded cloak and ran out into the street. Heading to the vegetable merchant first, saving the bread for last, hoping the rain would lighten before that.

She heard the rumors beginning to spread as she shopped, careful to keep her head down but her ears alert. No one else seemed to realize the consequences of the Faith’s actions though and continued on as nothing was wrong, just going back to complaining about the rain.

By the time she reached Hot Pie’s, the rain was still steady but the wind had relaxed a bit. He was standing under the awning, looking bored at the lack of customers that were stopping by today. He loved to talk, not really caring if those he talked too even cared about pies or bread beyond buying it.

He perked up when he saw her, “Hello Arry, wasn’t expecting you today.”

“Just wanted some extra bread today.” She replied, picking up a few loaves.

He started talking about how he wanted to try something new with the bread but that his master was being hesitant about it because it was extra work. She nodded and agreed at the right moments, barely listening. She really did like Hot Pie but sometimes he would just drone on and on. She was saved from further bread discussion when Lommy ran up, his dark blonde curls pasted to his head from the rain, “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?” Hot Pie asked.

“The High Sparrows arrested the Queen!” He replied, “A Gold Cloak came into the shop to fix a hole in his cloak and he was talking with Jeorge about it.”

Arya frowned, “Did he say why they arrested the Queen?” She asked, playing ignorant about the whole thing.

“For fucking her brother.” Lommy responded, “Just like all those stories we heard last year said.”

“You mean they arrested Cersei?” She asked, truly shocked.

“Who else?”

Arya rolled her eyes, “Queen Margeary. Cersei isn’t really Queen anymore, just the Queen Mother.”

Lommy looked confused, “Really?”

“Yes dumbass.” She said and looked to Hot Pie, “I should get back. You both be careful, if they are willing to arrest Queens, no one is safe.”

“You too Arry.” Hot Pie handing her the bag with the bread.

She bid farewell to them both and hurried back to the shop, glad that the rain was keeping the crowds away. 

When she returned, Gendry had closed up the main shop doors so she slipped in the side door. Master Mott was gone, she noticed and the forge was low. Gendry was seated at a workbench, polishing the sword he had been making when she had left. He looked up when she entered, “Get everything you wished to?”

She shook her head, “I got us enough though.” She placed it down and said, “The Faith also arrested Cersei.”

His eyes widened then, “This city might become a battleground. The King cannot take the imprisonment of his wife and mother laying down.”

“Tommen isn’t ready for this kind of decision. His Hand will be the one making the decisions, while the Tyrells breathe down his neck, demanding that action be taken for the return of Margaery and Ser Loras.” She said and sat down. She looked back at him, “Did I cause this?”

He furrowed his brows, “What are you talking about?”

“I killed Joffrey and Tywin. Did those deaths allow for the rise of these sparrows?” She asked, “Did my actions cause this?”

He shrugged, “I do not know how much of this works. Tywin’s death might have emboldened them but I think they would have been a problem either way.”

Arya nodded, it was ridiculous to think that she could affect events so strongly, she did not have that kind of power.

* * *

King’s Landing took on a dangerous tone after the arrest of the Queens and Ser Loras. The Tyrells reacted by stopping all imports of food into the city, just as Arya thought they might. The Faith also started going around interrogating any that they thought might be living in sin. The day they stopped by the forge had been an intense experience.

All the men had completely shorn off their hair, leaving the color it once was to the imagination and they all had seven pointed stars carved into their foreheads, she knew then that they were more than devout, they were fanatics. The leader of the group that came to the Street of Steel was not overly large, but he carried an air about him that said he was not above being ruthless. 

He came in without invitation and looked between them, “We have been told that you two are coupling together outside the laws of the gods.”

Gendry frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, “Whoever told you that is a liar, this is my wife. We were married in a sept, by a septon nearly seven moons ago.”

“Do you have any proof of the marriage?”

“There was the septon, and two other witnesses present at the time.” Arya commented, and the glare she received in turn let her know that they did not ask the question to her.

“Who were the witnesses?”

“The man who owns this shop and the woman who was the sept at the time, she and her husband run a tarven near the sept. She was there praying and witnessed the marriage.” Gendry replied, saying more words that he usually did.

The three men looked at each other, seemingly debating whether or not to believe the words. The two that had not spoken each gave a singular nod, before the first man spoke again, “Seven moons you say. Yet, your wife is not with child.”

Gendry looked at her and she could see he did not know what to say, so she stepped forward, “I had been with child for a while, but it was not to be.”

The man once again seemed affronted that she would dare speak but Gendry interrupted before the man could say a word, “The loss of the babe was an emotional one, we decided to wait a short time before trying again.”

The three men once again silently conversed with each other before the speaker said, “Using any form of prevention of a child such as moon tea or spilling outside the womb is an affront to the gods. Consider this your first and only warning on the matter.”

They did not wait for any response from either of them before the men turned around and exited the shop, just as abruptly as they had entered it. 

Gendry turned to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, “Are you alright?”

“Aye.” She said, her mind still reeling, “Do you think they will return in a few moons to see if I am with child?”

He shook his head, “I don’t know, these Sparrows are not like the faithful I have known all my life. They are something different.”

She wrapped her arms around him, “This city is far too dangerous to bring a child into it.”

He kissed the top of her head, “I have always agreed with you on this matter. Hopefully the King will get his shit together before things get even further out of hand.”

She nodded her agreement but something about all that was unfolding in the city unnerved her. The new faith was willing to enforce the religious laws in a way she had never known another to do. Forcing couples to have children because the gods considered anything else wrong. It was not up to the gods to decide when she was ready to be a mother, it was her own decision. It was something that belonged between her and Gendry. The Faith had no right to make her have a child, just as she was sure that if she stopped laying with Gendry, that would be breaking some law they would cook up as well.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, she would enjoy the comfort her husband provided for her. There was nothing she could do about the Faith or their High Sparrow, she needed to focus on her plans. Sansa was still locked away in the Red Keep, she needed to find a way to get her out. The Faith could do what they wished, she had her own gods.

* * *

New spread through the city quickly, Cersei was going to be doing a walk of atonement. She was sure the word was being spread by the Faith, the High Sparrow surely wanted as many people as possible to witness Cersei’s shame. She was not exactly sure what a walk of atonement meant, only that she had to walk from the Great Sept of Baelor to the Red Keep. 

“We need to be there. I want her to see me.” Arya said to Gendry as they laid in bed the night before.

“Will she recognize you? It has been a long time since she last saw you.” He asked, once again just not throwing her idea away.

She shrugged, “I don’t know. She might have forgotten all about me by now but I want to see her. I want to look her in the eye and smile at her misfortune.”

“I will be there with you.” He had promised.

That was how they found themselves in their current position, standing along one of the streets that had been chosen for the walk. Hundreds of their fellow citizens of the city stretched for as far as she could see in both directions of the street. She was dressed just as she would be on any other day, with the exception of Needle, as the Faith had banned weapons. That had not stopped her from keeping one of the daggers in her skirts. She would not use it though, she had no desire to die today, and she would not put Gendry at such a risk.

There were about midway along the path and Cersei did not reach them until past midday. Arya would have waited all day and night if that is what it had taken. 

She made a wolf mask just for the occasion, as the sound of the bells began to reach them, she pulled it out of her pocket and slipped it on. None of the people around them noticed, their eyes focused on the Queen, who was as naked as the day she was born. Arya noticed she was covered in something though, liquids and from the color, shit.

Cersei kept her eyes mostly on her feet, trying to avoid tripping over things that people had thrown in front of her. Just before she reached where they stood, she stumbled and when she caught herself, she looked right at Arya. Arya smiled at her, just like she had intended. She could see Cersei staring at her, trying to place her. She slipped the mask over her face and smiled with her teeth. 

She felt Gendry’s hand land on her shoulder and Cersei’s eyes flew to him, her eyes widening in shock. The Septa that had been chanting shame pushed Cersei forward and Cersei’s eyes lost them as they slipped back into the crowd. 

They walked back to the forge in silence but Arya felt like she had accomplished her goal, Cersei had seen her. She hoped that the idea of finding the girl in the wolf mask would haunt the Queen. Her eyes moved to Gendry, why had the Queen been shocked at his appearance? She shook her head, that was a question for another day. Today they would celebrate their small victory.

  
  
  
  



	7. Queen Cersei Lannister

Arya was sure what she had expected to happen after Cersei’s walk of atonement, but it certainly hadn’t been for Queen Margeary to be released from her own imprisonment because she had found her new calling in the faith and brought King Tommen into the fold. She would have thought that Cersei would have a tighter grip on her youngest son but apparently his wife outranks his mother. Ser Loras was still being held though, a trial to be presided over by a collection of septons was scheduled. Cersei’s would be held at the same time because the walk was not enough to appease the Faith, that was just to allow her to return to the castle. Arya didn’t like it, if they had been planning to have her stand trial no matter what, they never should have let her leave the Sept of Baelor in the first place. They underestimated Cersei, Arya assumed because she was a woman. A mistake she was sure many men had made in the past and she was sure it was going to be a hard lesson for the High Sparrow to learn as well.

While the High Sparrow had not endured himself to the highborn class of King’s Landing, he was much loved by the smallfolk. Arya could see it in the renewed worship of the Seven all around the city, and with Queen Margeary now back at the castle, food was once again flowing through the city. It was being given out fairly to all the different sections of the city and the smallfolk were happy, even if the city did still smell of shit.

The day of the trial, Arya could not shake a feeling of dread, like something horrible was going to happen today. She could say where the feeling came from, but it had shaken her so hard she warged into Silver, needing to check on Sansa.

Silver was nested in a little basket Sansa had provided for him, he opened his eyes at Arya’s command and she saw her sister sitting at her vanity. Speaking quietly with her husband, the Imp standing a few feet away, he was already dressed for the trial.

“....our absence could be seen as an affront to the High Sparrow.” Tyrion said.

Sansa turned to him fully, “I will only leave once your sister has. I do not trust her. I tried to tell Margeary as much but she refused to leave Loras to his fate.”

“Cersei cannot do anything, she has lost her power.” He responded.

Sansa shook her head, the red braid down her back moving as she did, “I am not going. You may go without me if you find it so necessary, tell them I am feeling ill or some other clever reason. I am not setting foot in that Sept today.”

Arya felt herself let out a sigh of relief, whatever feeling she had, it was comforting to know that Sansa was feeling it too. The sound came out of the cat as a small ‘meow’ that caused her sister to smile over at the creature. Tryion frowned, “I see the cat has a bed now.”

“He needed someplace comfortable to rest.” Sansa said matter of factly and stood up. Arya could see that Sansa had grown even taller than when they’d last been together, she towered over her husband. Her pale blue dress flowed as she walked over and ran her hand over Silver’s head, the cat let out a contented purr.

Tyrion sighed and walked closer, “You truly do not intend…”

His voice was cut out by a loud sound, causing both their heads to look out the window and forced Arya into her own body.

She stood up from the bed and quickly ran downstairs, Gendry was standing at the entrance to the forge, his eyes focused on something in the distance. She went over and joined him, her eyes following his line of sight and it stopped on the large plume of smoke over the city. 

She turned to him, “What do you think happened?”

He shook his head, “Nothing good, seems to be coming from the Sept.”

“Cersei.” She said and the two shared a look before he went back to work.

She stayed by the entrance, and soon enough, Ronald, one of the orphans ran up to her, “Arry, the sept was destroyed by some sort of green fire! Like that stuff they used on Stannis’ ships.”

Wildfire, her mind supplied, “The sept is destroyed?”

He nodded, “The whole thing is gone! A bunch of the buildings around it too. Happened during the trial. Queen Margeary, the High Septon, they are all dead!”

“You are sure they were inside?” She asked.

“Harley left before it burned, he said he saw the Queen, her father, the Hand, and a bunch of others go inside. He left after they shut the doors.” He told her, his small body bouncing with energy, “How many people do you think were killed?”

She shook her head, “It was an important trial. It wouldn’t surprise me if the number is many hundreds.” Her eyes drifted back to the plume of smoke still over the city, she looked back down at him, “How many other buildings were destroyed?”

He shrugged, “Everything right near it and many blocks more.” He then looked down, “Do you think Jessie was there, I can’t find her anywhere?”

Arya gave him a small smile, “I don’t know Ronald, hopefully she’ll show up later.”

He nodded but she could see in his eyes that he was already expecting his friend to have been lossed to the flames or rubble of Cersei’s destruction. She had no doubt that this was Cersei’s doing. As far as she knew only the crown had access to the ability to make wildfire, and she was sure that enough of it could destroy the sept if placed in the right locations. 

She wondered what would happen now, the city had slowly been coming back together again but that had been because of the combination of the Tyrells and the High Sparrow. If what Ronald said was true, then both were gone now. She wondered how King Tommen would handle this, she was sure that Cersei would have done something to prevent his attendance of the trial if she had been planning this.

“I am going to try and find Jessie, bye Arry!” He said quickly before running off.

She tried to smile after him but couldn’t manage it, nothing good was going to come of any of this. 

* * *

They were quiet as they laid in bed that night, so much had changed since they had woken up that morning. Ronald had not had all the information, while he was right about those that had been in the sept and the destruction that was caused to the city, he had known that King Tommen was dead as well. It was unclear about whether he had been in the Sept of Baelor or if he had died of other causes. Not that it really mattered, he was dead, and Cersei had styled herself Queen. 

“By what right does she get to sit on the throne?” Arya said into the darkness, her head resting on Gendry’s chest.

Gendry shrugged the best he could while lying flat on his back, “Who else?”

“Stannis is still alive isn’t he? Or his daughter. They are both actual Baratheons, unlike Cersei, who didn’t even give birth to anyone with Baratheon blood.” She muttered.

“I don’t know how any of that works. I guess they are going with she is the one who claimed the throne first in the building that houses it. And I am sure after the Sept, they are afraid to go against her.”

She shook her head again, “She doesn’t deserve it. She will bring nothing but cruelty to the Seven Kingdoms.”

“I don’t disagree, but what could we do about it? Going to become the cat again and kill her?” He asked, his hand slowly moving over the bare skin of her waist.

“I could.” She said but she didn’t think that would really work, she had just gotten lucky with Tywin, and her connection to Silver had lessened the longer the cat was with Sansa. She shook her head, “I don’t even know what I could do, but I do know one thing. This city is going to fall apart under her rule.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, “We shall survive it.”

She nodded and settled in deeper into his embrace, she would make sure they did.

* * *

It did not take long for the city to start to eat itself. The tentative prosperity brought on by the Tyrells and the Faith was gone. Lady Olenna had cut off resources from the Reach after taking control of House Tyrell. Dorne and the Iron Islands were still in open rebellion, and she had not heard anything of what was happening in the Vale or the North. There were once again riots over the available food and who had access to it. The Gold Cloaks would enforce only the high market areas, which luckily for them included the Street of Steel.

For this reason, she had taken to feeding her ragtag group of orphans. The number was nearly the same as before the sept but sadly some of the faces had changed. She would make a type of fish stew for them, she did not find it that appetizing but Gendry and the children assured it was better than a bowl of brown. Fish was easy to get after she had helped a fisherman’s wife buy a loaf of bread. Arya had been planning to buy the last one but the woman had two small children and Arya had insisted that the woman have it. Not being one for charity, Selvy, came by the forge two later with a few small fish for them, as repayment for the bread. So began a cycle, Arya would buy bread for both them and Selvy’s family, Selvy would then pay her in fish. Hot Pie provided her with the bread, she just started showing up a few moments before the shop actually opened and bought all she required. Vegetables were impossible to get, no matter how hard she tried, the little they got from the farms in the Crownlands was not enough for a city the size of King’s Landing. She had stocked up on potatoes, but she would be short on those soon enough she was sure.

They were luckily not short on funds, as the forge was kept busy as more and more soldiers were brought into the city. She assumed that meant things were going badly if Cersei felt she needed to secure the city with her army. She even said as much at Emma’s tavern one evening.

“You don’t know what you are talking about girl.” A gruff man said at the other table.

Arya had allowed herself to get more in her cups tonight that usual, it was the three year anniversary of her father’s death. She turned to the man, seeing Gendry, Hot Pie, and Lommy all sigh in defeat before she said, “Cersei Lannister is the worst thing that could have happened to Westeros. She does not give one shit about anyone that isn’t a Lannister. How is she even the fucking Queen anyway? Last I checked being the Queen Mother doesn’t put you in line for the crown.”

The man stared at her, “Are you insulting our Queen?”

“I am, she is a rotten cunt. She destroyed the Sept of Baelor because the High Sparrow insulted her, how many other people died in those fires? All those other people meant nothing to her, just as long as she killed that one man.” Arya replied and drank more of her ale, “Robert Baratheon might have been a fat fuck who only liked fucking his whores and drinking his wine, but at least he knew that about himself and put people on the counsel that knew what they are doing. We weren’t on the brink of starving then, were we?”

“It is the Tyrells that are starving us!” Someone else yelled.

“Would they be starving us if Cersei hadn’t killed Queen Margeary, Ser Loras, or Lord Mace when the Sept fell? If Cersei had accepted her fate and submitted to the Faith, we would be eating happily on the food of the Reach.” Arya pointed out.

“You just blame the Queen for everything don’t ya?”

“I do.” She said proudly, “If she hadn’t fucked her brother, the War of Five Kings never would have happened in the first place. She is the one whose head should be sitting on a spike.”

Gendry tugged her back to face him, “You are speaking treason now, we should go.”

She laughed, “Cersei would have to care about the smallfolk to give a flying fuck about my treasonous words.”

Gendry got to his feet and pulled her up with him. That did nothing to stop her words, “You know what we should do? We should all say ‘fuck Cersei’ and go storm the castle.”

“That would never work.” Some patron she didn’t see said.

“It worked against the Targaryens and they had 

.” She said, pointing at some people, “There are more of us than they are her red armored soldiers and they don’t like her anymore than we do. I bet half of them would just surrender.”

Hot Pie spoke up then, “Just ignore her, she gets strange ideas in her head when drunk.”

Gendry shouldered them out of the tavern and then picked her up and carried her back to the forge. She snuggled into his chest, “I just need an army of my own Gendry, then I could get her.”

“You don’t have an army my love.” He responded.

“Not yet.” She whispered before she felt her eyes closed and the darkness overtook her.

* * *

She woke the next morning to her head pounding and a vague memory of what had happened the night before. She remembered going to the tavern, having a few drinks, but the ending was blank. She shook her head and slowly made her way down to the forge, carefully eating some of the leftover bread from yesterday. Gendry was standing at one of the workbenches, his arms crossed over his chest, as he spoke with three men she did not recognize.

She assumed they were there to commission some work and went to move towards the back room when one of them spotted her, “That is her, right there.”

She froze and looked at them, “Excuse me?”

“I told you, she was drunk and didn’t know what she was saying.” Gendry replied.

Arya moved to stand next to her husband, she was looking at the men though when she said, “What do you want?”

“You seem to know your stuff, we want your help.” The finest dressed of the three men said.

She looked him over, “What could you possibly need my help with? I am nothing but the wife of a blacksmith.”

“The wife of a blacksmith who knows about Targaryen history and likes to talk of revolution while in her cups.” He responded, “We believe the city, hells, all of Westeros would be better off without Cersei Lannister sitting on the Iron Throne.”

“That’s great. I don’t see what it has to do with me.” She repeated.

“Your speech last night, it was captivating. We think you could be the one to help lead people to our cause. We asked around, you have friends throughout the city.”

She frowned, “You want me to recruit people to your cause? What exactly is your cause?”

“Free everyone from Cersei. We want to storm the Red Keep and then stick her stupid blonde head on a spike and put it at the front gate to the city for all to see.” He replied.

“Why?” She asked, he seemed like someone who would need a reason to join a cause.

The man was quite a moment, “My wife and children were killed when she destroyed the Sept of Baelor. One of the bells smashed through our home. She needs to be held responsible for that.” He looked her over, “Why do you want her dead?”

She looked him straight in the eye when she answered, “She killed my family too.”

He gestured to the man to his right, “This is Darreth, his brother died because of her.” He then gestured to his left, “Jorvan lost his wife and child to starvation while he was out earning a wage as a sailor on a merchant vessel. Cersei has taken from all of us.”

Arya looked up at Gendry, his blue eyes were guarded but he let out a barely visible nod, she turned to the man, “I am Arry, this is my husband Gendry.”

He held out his hand to her, “I am Arren. Will you help us take our revenge on Cersei Lannister and save this city?”

She reached out and shook his hand, “Aye. Let's bring that golden haired cunt down.”


	8. The Smallfolk Rise

Her part in the revolution started out small, she simply started recruiting some of her friends to the cause. Hot Pie and Lommy were eager to join, as was Emma. All three of them were suffering with a lack of business and as the people ran out of coin and had no way to earn more. Trade in the city was slower than it had been, mostly left to only merchants from the Free Cities. Rumors of a Dragon Queen also started to flood the city, and Arya used that to her advantage. As an educated woman, she knew all about Targaryen history. She did not know anything about Daenerys Targaryen, except that she was born after the war was officially over on Dragonstone and escaped before Stannis reached the island. That did not matter, what did was her name and the claim that she had three, live dragons at her command. 

She started with the orphans, telling them that when Daenerys came to Westeros, they needed to make sure to get out of the city however they could. King’s Landing would be her first target, it was where her ancestors had ruled from, she would want the Iron Throne for herself. She hated frightening the children but her words were not lies, Gendry would remind her, and she took that to heart. To the adults, she spoke of how could a ruler who freed the slaves of Slaver’s Bay ever care for them less than Cersei Lannister, who only glared at them from her red towers.

The starvation that many were facing was the biggest support their cause could have. Even they were starting to find it hard to come up with food at times. Gendry had been used to stretching his food when he was a boy, he fell back into the habit easily.

Gendry’s own role in the revolution was different from her’s, he was slowly arming their would be fighters. Nothing too fancy, just simple short swords, long swords, and axes. There were no large meetings that would draw the attention of the Gold Cloaks, but they would both meet with Arren and Darreth once a week. Everyone in the group had their own roles, someone was in charge of recruiting at the docks, another on the street of silk, there was even a member of the Gold Cloaks on their side. While they were better off than the smallfolk, even the Gold Cloaks were starting to suffer from the conditions in the city. Cersei’s response to any unrest was to send in her Lannnister soldiers to deal with it, those that were not in the Riverlands at least. 

Rumors of unrest in the kingdoms were starting to reach them easier now that soldiers were being called to protect the city. Riverrun had been retaken by Tully loyalists and the Bolton’s had been removed from Winterfell. There were two differing stories on this though, one said it was King Stannis, who had gained the support of the Northern lords and the Knights of the Vale, and another said it was the Night’s Watch with the aid of the Wildlings, led by Jon Snow, the bastard of Ned Stark. 

Arya did not know what to believe, she just hoped that either way it was true and that the Bolton’s were properly dealt with. They deserved whatever came for them, whether it was Stannis or the Wildlings. 

* * *

Daenerys Targaryen has landed on Dragonstone. She learns this through the eyes of Silver, her sister’s faithful companion. Lord Tyrion shares with her the news over dinner, and Arya thinks that the two of them have started to become more cordial in their relationship. He does not share her bed though, of that she is certain. The Imp has more morals than she had expected. Cersei has bought the services of the Golden Company and Tyrion hopes they arrive before Daenerys is ready to begin her attack on King’s Landing and Westeros. The Dornish and Tyrells have declared their support for the Dragon Queen.

“What of the North?” Sansa asks him after moments of silence, glancing at a large woman standing off to the side dressed in custom armor

Arya had been ready to leave them to their dinner before her sister had spoken, she needed to spread the word of Daenerys’ arrival in Westeros. She paused and listened for his answer.

He took a long drink of his wine before holding up the cup for Podrick to fill again, the young squire’s eyes flicking to Sansa for a moment as he did. After another drink for courage he said, “Stannis rallied the remaining Northern forces and untied them with the Wildlings, he has taken Winterfell and killed the Boltons. He has established your half-brother Jon as the new Lord of Winterfell after declaring him a Stark.” 

Sansa frowned, “Jon joined the Night’s Watch, he can hold no lands or titles.”

“Stannis pardoned him from the position I assume.” Tyrion answered.

“There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” Her sister whispered and smiled at her husband, “I am glad Jon has claimed it. If all my other siblings are dead, I am glad he is not.”

“Sansa, we still do….”

“No one has seen or heard from Arya in nearly three years. She is dead.” Sansa replied before taking the napkin out of her lap and placing it on the table, “What does Cersei plan to do about the three dragons Daenerys is rumored to have?”

“Weapons have been created, they worked against the previous Targaryen dragons. No reason they should not work against these ones.”

Sansa shook her head, “It is such a shame that dragons will once again be gone from the world, should Cersei get her way.”

“Aye.” Tyrion responded and stood from the table, “Only time will tell of what will become of them and us by the time this war is over.”

Arya waited until Tyrion left the room before she went back to herself, she opened her eyes to feel tears on her cheeks. Jon was alive, and he was in Winterfell, as the Lord and as a Stark. She could go home once this was all over.

* * *

The network they had created spread the news through the city quickly, Dorne and the Tyrells had abandoned Cersei for the Dragon Queen, who had her sights set on King’s Landing. Those with the means to do so attempted to leave, only to find the gates blocked. Those that couldn’t leave started refusing to pay their taxes. This led to confrontations with the Gold Cloaks, and many deaths, on both sides. The Lannister soldiers started taking regular patrols through the streets, arresting anyone who caused anytype of trouble. This only made the smallfolk more angry with their Queen. 

Darreth was visiting them in the forge when the horns sounded from the walls of the city. The horns only meant one thing, an enemy army was approaching. 

Arya looked over at him, “We need to figure out which army is here and start getting ready to start our assault.”

He nodded and ran out into the street. Gendry closed up the shop behind him. Arya ran up the stairs to their room and opened the trunk. She removed the clothes that Lommy had made especially for this moment. Dark trousers and a gray tunic would go under the hardened leather armor Gendry has crafted for her, a special mark embedded on the front. Today was the day she would cease being Arry and become Arya Stark once more. She put on her sword belt, Needle on the right side and the daggers lined up on the left.

Gendry entered as she placed the last dagger in its sheath. He smiled at her, “You look like a Northern warrior Queen.”

She smirked at him before handing him his own leathers, “A queen in need of her king.”

He took it from her and pulled it over his head, she started doing the straps, when he said, “I know we have been planning for this, but I cannot help but be afraid of what is to come.”

“Only a fool would not be afraid of what we are about to do.” She said, “We are performing a coupe during the start of a siege.”

He stopped her hands and brought them to his lips, kissing the tips with reverence before saying, “I do not want to lose you.”

She shook her head, “You won’t. Have faith that we will succeed. We will kill Cersei, save Sansa, and then we can all go to Winterfell once we have surrendered the city to Daenerys.”

“I will have faith in you.” He promised before closing the distance and giving her a kiss.

She returned it with pleasure before a banging started on the door downstairs, “The revolution has come to our door.”

“We should answer it.” He replied and together they walked down to face the dangers that were getting ready to greet them.

* * *

They were halfway to their destination when a screech filled the air and three dragons flew over the city. Arya couldn’t help up stop and stare at the creatures, real as any other animal she had seen, they were magnificent. The citizens of King’s Landing did not agree, instead of looking at the dragons in wonder, they screamed in fear. A mob pushed them along the road, rushing them toward the Red Keep. Cersei had opened the gates to the inner courtyard, but they would only remain so for so long. Their group managed to squeeze before the gate closed and locked behind them. There were sixty of their compatriots inside the courtyard, they had all come from different directions to increase their chances of entrance should paths get blocked by crowds. Those that did not make it were given secondary tasks, she hoped they could make them. She led their group to the edge, near one of the side entrances. They needed to wait until the right moment, until the attacks began. 

A green dragon circled the keep once before descending toward the bay, a stream of fire proceeding it. Arya assumed it was attacking Cersei’s fleet, or at the least the fleet Euron Greyjoy had gifted her. The battle for King’s Landing had officially begun.

The soldiers inside the keep became more nervous and less observant as the battle continued, none of the city’s defenses could stop the dragons, though they had attacked the city itself, so far it was only the walls and soldiers. The black dragon flew overhead and she was sure it was the largest of the three, Baleron the Black Dread reborn.

She nodded to Darreth. He and four men attacked the two soldiers and the entrance, they never saw it coming and did not raise an alarm. With the door now unguarded, it took them no time at all to enter the keep. Arya had used Silver’s eyes to walk these halls and memorize the path she needed to get to the throne room, where she knew Cersei would be.

They met a few soldiers in the halls, but not nearly as many as Arya was expecting. They were easily dealt with, Gendry having taught all of their men the weak points in the armor to aim for. By the time they had reached the Throne Room, their number was still strong at 57. There were six men guarding the door, one of them a Kingsguard. She did not know which one and she did not care. 

The five soldiers were dealt with quickly, they were outnumbered, and overwhelmed. The Kingsguard were chosen because they were the best in Westeros, this Ser took four men down before Gendry caved in the knight’s helmet with his hammer.

She gripped Needle tighter in her hand and nodded for the doors to be opened. It took no effort at all to break down the door, it had not even been properly baracadied. 

The first thing she noticed was five members of the Kingsguard, one was considerably larger than the others. She guessed it was the Mountain, he would be their biggest obstacle. Sitting on the steps before the Iron Throne were her sister and Tyrion, both had their hands tied together. Standing next to the throne was a man dressed in black robes, the Hand pin standing out against the dark cloth. Finally she looked to Cersei, her hair had grown in to fill in the gaps she had had when Arya had last seen her during her Walk of Atonement.

Cersei stood up, “Who are you?”

“We are the people you have forgotten.” Darreth shouted, “The family of those you murdered.”

Cersei didn’t bother to look at him, her eyes were stuck on Arya and Gendry. She pointed at them, “I remember you two from the crowd during my punishment. Who are you?”

Arya stepped forward, “Do you not recognize me Your Grace? I am not terribly surprised, you were never concerned with me. That was your mistake.” She turned her eyes to Sansa, who had brought her tied hands up to cup her mouth, “I suspect my sister recognizes me just fine.”

Cersei’s green eyes went wide, “Arya Stark. Not so dead after all. Where have you been all this time?”

“Do you want to know my story so badly, Your Grace, that you are willing to surrender right now and save the lives of the citizens of Westeros?” She asked, inching closer, “Daenerys Targaryen is outside your gates right now.”

“That forgein bitch will never set foot in this city.” Cersei spat, “Is that why you are here little wolf, to throw your support behind the Dragon Queen?”

Arya shook her head, “I have come for my sister and to defend the citizens of King’s Landing.”

“Your sister is a member of House Lannister now.” Cersei replied and sat down in her throne, “You have no power here little wolf.”

“I have all the power. My men outnumber yours and even if you happen to kill us all, you will not survive the dragons.” Arya pointed out, and she felt her men spread out behind her, while Gendry stepped up next to her. A dragon flew by the windows, the shadow darkening the space as it roared.

Cersei’s eyes fell on Gendry, “I see you found one of Robert’s bastards to aid you.”

Arya did not take her eyes off the Queen but she heard Gendry’s sharp intake of breath. She ignored the comment and said, “Gendry is my husband.”

Cersei snorted, “Robert got his wish in the end, a joining of Stark and Baratheon blood at last. What a shame he is not alive to see it.”

“What a shame he never got to learn his children were not his own. I would have loved to see him place your head on a spike.” Arya shot back.

Cersei scowled, “Enough of this. Surrender now and maybe I’ll ship you back to your bastard brother if he bends the knee.”

Arya shook her head, “That is not how this is going to end.”

“So be it.” Cersei said before speaking to her knights, “Kill them.”

The Kingsguard members rushed forward and so did their men. Arya recognized Ser Meryn Trant and she went straight toward him. He seemed surprised by her advance but met her all the same. His swings were wide and forceful, easy for her to dodge, drawing him farther away from the others, who were occupied with her men. She spun behind a column, smirking when she heard the hard thunk of his sword sliding against the stone. She rushed around and sliced behind his knees, her sword slicing through the leather. Trant yelled and buckled, landing hard on his knees before he rolled onto his side on the ground. She smiled and kicked his dropped sword away.

“I want you to know, that I have pictured killing you for years.” His face was partly hidden by his helm, but she could see the recognition there, “For Syrio Forrel.” She said as she stabbed forward, Needle sliding cleanly into his throat. She walked back to the fight as he choked to death on his own blood.

Bodies littered the floor, mostly her men, but she saw three of the Kingsguard as well. Only the Mountain remained, Gendry and the dozen remaining men engaging him. She turned to the Iron Throne, trusting her husband to pervail. Cersei was standing now, a dagger held to Sansa’s throat.

“Stand down or I will slit your sister’s throat.” Cersei threatened.

“Slit her throat and I will kill you.” Arya replied, she had already slid one of the daggers from her belt, ready to throw it at the first opportunity.

“Cersei, this is madness. You have lost.” Tyrion pleaded, he had gotten to his feet as well but was unable to do much with his tied hands.

Cersei glared at her little brother, “I have had enough of you.” She looked up at her Hand and nodded. 

Arya watched as the man took a few steps and embedded a knife into Tyrion’s gut. Sansa screamed but otherwise the only sound was that of the steel from the fight still going on.

Cersei smiled as her brother bled out before them, “Finally I am free of him.” She then looked back to Arya, “I killed my own brother, I will have no trouble killing your sister. Drop the sword.”

Arya let Needle fall to the ground, but in her left hand she still had the dagger. The sound of armor being crushed caused them all to look over to the fight. Gendry was standing over a prone Mountain, the man’s breastplate caved in from the spike of Gendry’s warhammer, which was still embedded in the chest. Only five of their men remained standing alongside him.

“Do you think you have won something great here today? Daenerys Targaryen could come in here and feed you to her dragons in a heartbeat.” Cersei said, the knife still against Sansa’s throat, a thin line of red visible beneath the steel.

“She could but I doubt it. I will have killed her rival and given her a city.” Arya replied, “Release my sister now.”

“No bargaining?” Cersei questioned.

“I am going to kill you today Cersei, there is not avoiding that now. If you kill my sister first, I will make sure it is the most painful way to die I can imagine. You let her go and I will kill you quickly. Those are the only bargains.” Arya replied and threw the dagger in her hand into the Hand’s heart when he charged at her.

Gendry and the men lined up beside her, “You have lost Cersei.”

“Maybe I have but you shall lose something too.” Cersei moved to slice Sansa’s throat and Arya felt her breath catch. Only, she never made the swipe because out of nowhere a small mass of fur jumped between Arya and the Queen, landing on Cersei’s wrist that was holding the knife.

The knife fell to the ground and the Queen threw the cat off of her hand, holding her bleeding wrist in hand as Sansa stumbled away.

Arya approached, drawing another dagger as she walked toward Cersei, “There was one more thing I wanted to tell you.” Cersei backed away a few steps before deciding to hold her ground, “I was the one who killed Joffrey. I threw a dagger just like this one into his carrier. I took your son from you, just as you took my father from me.”

Angry flashed in Cersei’s eyes as she screamed and ran toward Arya, her hands outstretched to grab her. Arya ducked and stabbed the dagger into the Queen’s belly, giving it a twist as she stood back up. 

Arya withdrew the dagger and Cersei fell to the floor, her hands pressed to the heavily bleeding wound, “Long live the Queen.”


	9. The Dragon Queen

Arya watched as Darreth ran off to shout the death of Cersei to all that would listen and to open the gates to Daenerys Targaryen. 

Sansa came up to her as they stood in front of the Iron Throne, “Arya?”

She smiled at her sister, “Hello.”

Sansa threw her arms around her, holding her tighter than she was pretty sure anyone ever had before, “I thought you were dead.”

“I know, but I have been here the whole time.” Arya assured her, hugging her back such as tightly.

Sansa pulled back and looked her over, “I don’t think you’ve gotten taller but you seem to have grown all the same.” She then turned to look at Gendry who was checking on the bodies of their fallen men, checking for anyone still alive, “Is that really your husband?”

Arya nodded with a smile, “It is. Gendry, he is a very good blacksmith. He is probably the reason I am alive.”

Sansa lowered her voice, “You are married to him because you want to be?”

Arya frowned but nodded, “It was my choice. Everything in our relationship has always been my choice.”

“That is good. I am happy for you.” Sansa told her but Arya was sure how much truth there was, “What do you think Daenerys will do with us?”

“Hopefully, she will let us go home. I have done her a huge favor, she owes me if nothing else.” Arya said, looking over at Cersei’s body, “Can you forgive me?”

Sansa frowned, “Forgive you for what?”

“I left you here.” Arya said, gesturing to the castle before pointing to Tyrion, “They married you to him.”

Sansa’s frown turned sad, “I was angry at first about that as well, but he never treated me poorly. I have to take some solace from that, I could have had it worse, but I never loved him, and I don’t think he loved me either.” Her eyes widened suddenly, “We need to go to the cells, Brienne and Podrick are down there.”

Arya rested a hand on her sister’s arms, “We don’t have enough men to get there safely if more of the Lannister soldiers are around. We will get them once Daenerys is here.”

Gendry walked up to them, a mass of fur in his arms, “I think his leg might be broken.”

Sansa let out a little scream and took the cat from him, she clenched the cat to her chest, “He saved my life.”

“He did. I am sure a little broken leg won’t harm him, we can set it and pamper the little beast.” Arya assured her, petting the cat on the head, “He deserves a hero’s feast.”

The bells rang in distance, and Gendry said, “Do you think she will walk the streets or ride one of the dragons into the courtyard?”

Arya shook her head, “ I hope she walks the streets and sees her people and does better than those before her.”

* * *

Arya was standing directly in front of the throne, with Gendry on her right and Sansa on her left, when Darreth and the others led Daenerys Targaryen into the hall. She was flanked on all sides by her own soldiers and even a few knights. Arya kept herself standing tall as she approached, the silver haired women stopped before the steps.

Arya smiled, “Welcome to King’s Landing, Daenerys Targaryen.”

An older man stepped forward, he seemed familiar but Arya couldn’t place him, he had a Hand pin on his chest, “Who are you? Where is Cersei?”

Arya pointed to where Cersei's body remained where it had fallen, “The Lannister lions are dead, except maybe Ser Jaime, I cannot say where he might be. As for myself, I am Arya Stark.”

“Arya Stark was married to Ramsay Bolton last we heard.” The man replied.

“A false belief.” She stated, “Who are you Ser?”

“Barristan Selmy, Hand to Queen.” He introduced and then said, “Are you going to challenge her for the Iron Throne?”

She chuckled, “I have no use for the Iron Throne, my sister and I just wish to be granted leave to return to Winterfell.”

The Queen stepped forward, her purple eyes watching them, “Why did you kill her?”

“She killed my father, she was a horrible person, and an even worse Queen. I had hoped, after all I had heard about what you did in Slaver’s Bay, that you would be an improvement. Sieges can last years, I didn’t want that.” Arya replied.

Daenerys nodded, “You will bend the knee to me then? House Stark will have no quarrel with House Targaryen?”

Sansa spoke up then, “We cannot speak for House Stark, our half brother Jon was given Winterfell and the North by Stannis Baratheon.”

“Stannis Baratheon is dead. Killed by Jaime Lannister when Stannis attempted to invade the Riverlands.” Ser Barristan said, “His daughter Shireen has bent the knee to Daenerys and been given the castle of Storm’s End. We have dealt with Ser Jaime as well.

“That does not change the fact that he declared Jon the Lord of Winterfell.” Sansa replied and looked at the Queen, “You’ll have to discuss bending the knee with him, Your Grace.”

Daenerys looked them over for a moment and then looked at Gendry, “Who might you be?”

“Gendry, Your Grace, I’m a blacksmith.” He replied, his blue eyes remaining focused on the floor.

“He is my husband.” Arya said, hoping that helped make it clear where his allegiance resided.

“He looks like King Robert did the day he took the Iron Throne.” Ser Barristan commented.

Arya looked at the Queen, “Cersei thought he was one of King Robert’s bastards but that does not matter. There is already a Baratheon in Storm’s End and he is a Stark now, through our marriage.”

Daenerys smiled at her, “I do not judge people on the character of their parents, only on the character of their own deeds. I hold no ill will against any of you for the actions of your fathers.” She sighed, “I have been told that my own earned his name.”

Arya was glad to see that the Dragon Queen at least seemed reasonable and looked to Sansa. She nodded and then Arya said, “Have you had any contact with our brother concerning his conditions to bend the knee?”

Daenerys looked at her, “Yes, he claims he needs dragonglass and my army to help him fight what he called the ‘Army of the Dead’.”

Arya frowned, “Army of the dead?”

Daenerys nodded, “That is what the raven we received said. I chose to take King’s Landing before I concerned myself with the North. Your brother does not seem interested in the other kingdoms.”

“We shall help you gain the North, Your Grace.” Sansa said, and then waited for Daenerys to look at her, “We would however ask a favor of you.”

“A favor?”

Sansa nodded, “My sister killed Cersei, saved the lives of many of your men and the people of King’s Landing. In return, we would appreciate it if you marched your men to Riverrun and then Twins, and routed Walder Frey and his murderous sons from their castle.”

Arya was surprised at the vicious revenge that was running through her sister, and thought that maybe they could be more similar than Arya had originally thought.

Daenerys spoke, “Why do you want to kill Lord Frey and his sons?”

“They killed our mother and our brother, as well as hundreds of our bannermen. All while they should have been under the production of guest rite.” Sansa answered, “They deserve to be punished for their crimes.”

Ser Barristan stepped forward, “The Red Wedding will be answered for. Anyone who would betray their King once, is not someone that we can trust.”

Daenerys nodded, “I agree. We shall work on creating a peace force for the city, using my Dornish and Reach allies. Then, we shall march my army North, stopping at the Twins to rectify the slight against your family. By then, hopefully your brother will be willing to meet with me and we can discuss this, army of the dead.”

“If I could make a suggestion, Your Grace.” Arya said, breaking up the conversation between Daenerys and her advisor.

“Nothing has stopped you so far Lady Arya, please, continue.” Daenerys said.

“Let Sansa or I write a raven to Jon. We can let him know that we are alive and under your protection, he could meet us at the entrance to the Neck after we take the Twins.” 

Arya watched as Daenerys turned to her advisor, they whispered in low tones. Arya took the time to look at the other’s that had filled the room. A Dornish man was looking at the body of Gregor Clegane, almost frowning like he was upset to see it. There were also a few men wearing sigils she recognized as Reach lords and a few more Dornish as well.

“You may write your raven. I would however like you both to remain here in the Red Keep.” She said in answer to their request. 

Arya was not really surprised by this, she and Sansa were valuable assists. She and Sansa nodded before Daenerys smiled and walked forward, running a hand over the Iron Throne.

“Do you know how many times I dreamed of this chair? It is not as large as expected.” She said before turning around and taking a seat.

Arya and Sansa move off the dias without being told, the moment called for the space. Everyone in the room gathered before, stepping around the bodies as they did. A young woman stepped forward and said, “All hail Queen Daenerys Targaryen!”

The room took up the cheer and their new queen smiled down onto them all.

* * *

The servants had hidden during the fighting but had not fled, most likely assuming that the castle was the safest place to be. They set about setting up rooms for Queen Daenerys and her council. Arya and Gendry followed Sansa to her own chambers, Lady Brienne and the squire Podrick in tow. They all remained silent until they were in the privacy of her chambers.

Sansa carefully laid Silver down in his basket bed and then threw her arms around Arya, “I missed you. Doesn’t that seem almost odd to say.”

“I know.” Arya replied, she knew they had much to talk about, but they had time now.

Sansa pulled away with a smile, “Arya, this is Lady Brienne of Tarth, she is our sworn sword.”

Arya was confused about the plural in the statement but nodded the woman, “Lady Brienne. How is it you are our sworn sword?”

“Your mother saved my life, in return I pledged to guard her’s. She however had a different task for me. She bid me to bring Ser Jaime Lannister here to King’s Landing and exchange him for you and your sister. I didn’t learn of the event at the Twins until we’d already arrived and your sister had been married to Lord Tyrion. I swore myself to her instead, everyone assumed you were dead my lady. Had I known different, I would have searched for you.”

“Do not trouble yourself on that account, I highly doubt you would have been able to find me.” Arya replied, “I have been in Kings Landing this whole time, living on the street to steel with Gendry. It would not have been a place you’d have thought to look.”

“Nonetheless, I am in your service now, my lady.” She responded before getting to her feet, “I shall follow you back to Winterfell.”

“Winterfell.” Sansa said, “Hard to believe we shall see it again.”

“See it we will.” Arya assured her before sitting in one the many chairs, “I cannot believe we succeeded.”

Gendry leaned over and kissed her forehead, “You planned it perfectly.”

“I just wish so many of our men hadn’t died.” She said, her hand coming up to land on the one he’d placed on her shoulder.

“That knight was something else, took 30 men to bring him down.” Gendry replied, “Not your fault at all, you saved the city from certain destruction. Those men knew what they were doing could involve their death, they were ready.”

She nodded, “Thank you.” She looked over at her sister, but she was busy wrapping Silver’s leg while Podrick kept the cat as still as he could. She noticed that the squire was looking at Sansa with something that was more than just mild affection, she had a feeling that he might be in love with his former lord’s lady.

A knock on the door startled them all except Brienne, who strode to the door and opened it harshly, spooking the young servant girl on the other side. The girl had her light brown hair shorn short, like Cersei’s had been, she curtised and hesitantly said, “A chamber has been made up for Lady Arya and her husband.”

Gendry helped Arya to her feet, she turned to Sansa, “I am going to take a bath and change, will you be alright?”

Sansa nodded, “I am safe with Brienne and Podrick, no need to worry about me.”

Arya felt no need to argue the point, she could see the truth of the matter clear enough. She nodded and followed the young girl out into the hall. Brienne watched from the doorway, seeming hesitant on which of her charges to stay with. They were only lead two doors down and across the hall, Arya turned back to her sworn sword, “Stay with Sansa, we will see you for dinner.”

Brienne gave a curt nod before going back to Sansa’s chambers.

Arya smiled as she saw that a tub had already been filled, she would have to thank Daenerys for thinking to give that order. The servant girl left and closed the door without another word. Arya turned to her husband and gave him a smile, “Come take a bath with me.”

Gendry eyed the copper tub with curiosity, “I’ve never had a proper bath like this.”

Arya started undoing the ties to his leather jerkin, “Trust me, you’ll love it.”

* * *

It took days for Daenerys to get true control over the city, aided by the remaining members of the revolution that many never even knew existed. Daenerys’ army was also made up of the Dornish and Reach armies, the familiar names and sigils helped ease the fears that Cersei had planted of foriegn invaders. She had also received ravens from many of the houses in the Vale, Stormlands, and Riverlands pledging their loyalty. Arya learned this after Daenerys had invited her and Sansa for an afternoon conversation in the gardens, aided only by her advisor, Missandei.

“Your brother has sent you a response.” Daenerys said and Missandei handed Sansa a raven’s scroll, the seal unbroken.

Sansa looked up at the Queen, “You did not read it?”

“It is addressed to you. He sent one to me directly as well.” Daenerys explained before taking a sip of tea.

Sansa quickly read over the raven, a small smile gracing her face before she passed it over to Arya.

Arya smiled, it was short and sweet. She knew he had written that way to ensure that if anyone read it that nothing personal was given away. She was happy to know that her brother was not a fool when it came to lordship.

“I hope we will be as reasonable in person as he was in his raven. I have sent men back to Dragonstone to begin mining the dragonglass and it shall be sailed to White Harbor within a fortnight. It very well could beat us to the North.” Daenerys told them.

Sansa spoke first, “Do you believe him about the Army of the Dead then Your Grace?”

“I have no use for the dragonglass, it is a show of good faith. I have also seen many things accomplished with the use of magic, it would be foolish of me to discount your brother just because it seems impossible.” Daenerys explained, “I was hoping that you could help me with something however Lady Sansa.”

Sansa nodded, “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Your husband was the heir to Casterly Rock, I need to know if you are with child before I choose which remaining Lannister to make lord of the castle.” Daenerys said plainly.

Arya watched as her sister’s face turned nearly as red as her hair as she looked away from the Queen. Sansa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “I am not with child.”

“Are you certain? When was the last time Lord Tyrion shared your bed?” Daenerys asked, “I do not wish to be crude, but I do not want to take your child’s birthright.”

“Lord Tyrion never consummated our marriage.” Sansa spoke quietly.

Arya’s eyes widened at that, as did Daenerys and Missandei. It was Missandei who said, “I have thought that for the marriage to be legal, it would have had to be.”

Sansa nodded, “He knew it was not something I wanted. He said that we would wait until I was ready. I never was.”

“A special man then.” Daenerys replied, “Many have little concern for the feelings of their brides on the matter.”

Arya had a feeling that Daenerys was speaking from experience on that topic but was sure it was not a topic the woman would want to discuss. 

“He was always kind to me.” Sansa said in return, “One of his cousins should be the new Lord of Casterly Rock. As you said Ser Jamie died facing your forces in the Stormlands.”

Daenerys nodded and turned to Missandei, “We shall send Prince Oberyn and Lord Tarly to Casterly Rock, they can secure the Westerlands and install a new Lord Lannister.”

Missandei made a quick note before smiling over at them, “Will we see snow in the North?”

Arya almost laughed at the sudden change in topic, “I would think so. Winter is now in full effect, we could even see snow here in King’s Landing or in the Riverlands.” She then looked at the dresses both women were wearing and said, “We are all going to need thicker clothes.”

The three all women all started laughing and she joined in, it was the most relaxed afternoon she had in years.


	10. The Twins

Arya was not sure what she was expecting from a castle called the Twins, perhaps she had hoped the stones would have been stained red with the murder the had been committed within the walls. Instead, it looked like most castles, only it was two castles with a large bridge suspended over the river between them. 

Daenerys’ dragons flew overhead, while half her army was on one said and the other half on the other. The potential siege of the castle was the properly set, she wondered in Walder Frey would stupid enough to try outlast one. 

A man rode forth from the castle nearest them, two soldiers flanking him and a young boy carrying the white flag of truce. 

Daenerys rode forward to meet the man, Ser Barristan on one side, and Arya on the other. A single Dotharki bloodrider along with them.

The man spoke first, “Queen Daenerys Targaryen, I am Edwyn Frey, heir to the Twins. I have come to invite you into the castle so you may treat with my father and he may show you the proper respect you deserve. There is no need for this show of force.”

Daenerys looked him over, “Ser Edwyn, while I appreciate the offer to enter the castle, I am afraid that I cannot trust the word of your father.”

Edwyn looked offended, “You are new to our land Your Grace I know, but truly you must understand the importance of first meetings.”

“I do understand them. Allow me to introduce you to my companions, this is my Hand, Ser Barristan Selmy, and this is Lady Arya Stark.” Arya watched as the man paled at the sound of her name, and Daenerys continued, “I have heard a great many tales about what happened to her mother, and her brother, the man your Father swore oaths to have as his King. I am afraid that I cannot trust my safety within your walls, guest rite was betrayed there.”

“Your grace, that was the work of the Lannisters and the Boltons, we were but pawns.”

“I do not care about how your part in the Red Wedding came to be. I care that there was a Red Wedding at all.” Daenerys replied, and then added, “There are of course ways to move past gruesome events. Lady Arya has her own terms.”

Arya waited until the man was looking at her, “There must be consequences for the Red Wedding. Your Father committed treason, as did yourself, and many members of your family. I am sure you know what the punishment for treason is.”

The man nodded, and Arya could not believe he was such a coward as to not speak.

“Your Father must answer for his crimes, as well as the man who killed my mother and my good-sister. I know that Roose Bolton stabbed my brother, the stories are all very clear on that part, and his consequence have already been met. Take this back to your family. Let them hand over these men, and we do know who they are. You have until midday tomorrow, if not, then House Frey will suffer the same fate as House Bolton.”

* * *

Jon’s forces arrived not long after the parlay had ended. Arya could not remember how exactly her first moment with Jon had really gone. One moment he was riding in on a horse and the next she was hugging him as if her life depended on it. She did remember being surprised by the enthusiastic hug Sansa gave him, as the two had never been close, but Kings Lansing had changed Sansa. The three stood in silence for a moment after that and then Jon said, “I am so happy you are both alive.”

Arya laughed, it was such a silly thing to say but it was what they were all thinking. Arya then turned to Gendry and gestured him over. She looked back at her brother, “Jon, this is Gendry, my husband.”

Jon’s eyes went wide but he shook Gendry’s hand, “I see we have a lot to talk about.” His eyes then went behind them and Arya turned, Daenerys was waiting.

Sansa took control then, “Allow me to make the introductions.”

Arya watched as Sansa led Jon over to the Queen. This was an informal meeting but Jon had basically already agreed to bend the knee, assuming of course it truly was his sisters writing to him.

“You a Baratheon?” An older man said, coming upon beside them, “You have the look.”

Gendry sighed, “I have heard that before Ser…”

“Davos Seaworth. I served as Hand to the King to Stannis Baratheon before Jamie Lannister put a sword through his eye.”

“Why are you here then?” Arya asked.

“I serve your brother now.” The man answered as if it was a simple answer, “Stannis had ordered me to remain with your brother and plan defenses for the dead or I would have died with him.

“You didn’t want to return home?” 

“One day I will, we have to save that home first.” He answered before walking over to introduce himself to their new Queen.

Gendry sighed, “How many times are people going to ask if I am Baratheon?”

Arya shrugged, “Probably as many times as people feel the need to ask.”

“That is not comforting.” He replied, “Do you think the true Baratheons will take offense?”

She laughed, “The only Baratheon is Lady Shireen, Stannis’ daughter. As long as you don’t want Storms End, I doubt she will care about you.”

His blue eyes displayed his nerves, “Do you think your brother cares about me?”

“Jon will care about you because I care about you. I am more interested in seeing what he thinks of Sansa being in love with her late husband’s squire.” Arya answered, looking over to where Podrick stood next to Brienne.

Gendry shook his head, “Podrick has a family name, that matters.”

“It won’t matter to Jon.” Arya assured him, “Come, we have much to discuss with not only my brother but the Queen as well.”

* * *

The following morning they all woke to the sound of a horn. Edwyn Frey sat upon his horse, a dozen men grouped behind him and cart beside him. It took Arya a moment to see that what was within the cart was a dozen men, one of them the oldest man she had ever seen.

Edwyn waited until they were all at attention, “Queen Daenerys. My family and I have discussed your terms and accept them. Before you is my father, Walder Frey, and eleven of my brothers who he trusted to carry out the Red Wedding. As further proof of your loyalty to you,” He snapped his fingers and a man came forward, beside him was a woman holding a toddler, “we will also release Edmure Tully from our dungeons.”

She heard Sansa gasp from beside her, seeing their uncle as he was. They had not met him before but Arya doubted he had always been skin and bones. It was clear he had been freshly given a bath and his clothes were ill fitting. She felt anger once again boil in her blood. Arya glanced at Daenerys, it was clear she was unhappy as well. When they had freed Riverrun from the Freys on their journey here, no one had given them reason to believe Edmure was still alive.

Daenerys turned to him, “Lord Edmure. I apologize that we did not come to your rescue sooner, we had thought you dead. Riverrun will once again belong to House Tully and you shall be Lord Paramount of the Riverlands.”

Edmure came forward and kneeled before her, “Thank you, Your Grace.” He weakly got back to his feet, “This is my wife Rosalyn and our son Hoster.”

Rosalyn curtsied as well as she could with the confused boy in her arms.

Edmure then turned to her and Sansa and gave the elder one a smile, “I suppose you are my niece? You look so much like Cat I do not see how you could not be.”

Sansa nodded, “It is good to see you alive Uncle, we will talk later.”

Edmure gave her a small smile before leading Rosalyn to stand in the line with the other nobles of Daenerys routine.

Daenerys spoke her next words harshly, “Edwyn Frey. While I am loath to allow house Frey any dignity, I shall not strip you of your castle, but you are under warning. If you, or a member of House Frey raise arms against House Tully again, I will burn both castles to the ground. You are also no longer allowed to charge for use of the bridge. It belongs to all the citizens of Westeros now.”

“Your Grace, you cannot…”

The black dragon chooses that moment to fly overhead, the wind from the wing beats shaking the banners and halting the new Lord Frey.

Daenerys smiled, “That is the final words I have on the subject. Now, I want all the members of House Frey over the age of ten to gather upon this field at midday to witness the executions of Lord Walder and his traitorous sons.”

* * *

The executions themselves were done by beheading. Jon took the head of Walder Frey, and one member of each house that followed Jon to the Twins took the head of his sons, in justice of their own family members lost during the Red Wedding. 

That night, they all still ate in the comfort of their tents, not wanting to enter the stone walls of the Twins. Daenerys was friendly, just as she had been the entire journey from King’s Landing to the Twins. Arya would almost consider Daenerys her friend, if one could be friends with a woman with three grown dragons. After dinner, Jon asked her to join him on a walk, just the two of them.

They were silent until they reached the edge of the camp, then Arya spoke first, “Where is Ghost?”

Jon laughed, “He ran off before we arrived, I have no idea where he has gone, but he always comes back.”

Arya smiled, “Good, I would like to see how big he has gotten.”

Jon frowned instead of returning her smile, “What happened to Nymeria and Lady?”

“On the way down to King’s Landing, we stopped at this inn. I had gone off to play at swords with the butcher’s boy, Mycah. Joffrey and Sansa were on a walk and came across us. Joffrey did not like that Mycah thought he could be knight, even a pretend one, and attacked him with his real sword. I hit him with my stick when he wouldn’t stop. Mycah ran off and Joffrey turned his sword on me, Sansa was screaming for us to stop fighting, but Joffrey wasn’t listening. Nymeria came out of nowhere and bit Joffrey’s sword arm. He dropped the sword, I got Nymeria off of him, and threw his sword into the river. Then, I ran off with Nymeria and threw rocks at her until she left me, I knew they would kill her. Instead, they killed Lady, saying a direwolf was not a suitable pet for a girl.” Arya told him, and sighed, “Nymeria is still out there, somewhere, I know she is. I dream of her sometimes.”

“The Free Folk would say that means you are a warg.” Jon teased with a knock of her shoulder, “Maybe that is where Ghost went, to find Nymeria.”

Arya gave him a sad smile, “Maybe.” She shook her head, “How did you become the King in the North? I heard rumors but they were hard to believe.”

He sighed, “That is a very long story that would be very hard to believe indeed.”

“You don’t have to tell me now, not if you don’t want to. I hope you know however that I am here if you ever want to share it.” 

Jon stopped their movement and pulled her into a hug, “I did miss you very much little sister.”

“And I you, big brother.”

He released after a long moment and said, “Now, you were the last person I expected to see with a husband. Seeing how much you always said you would never marry.”

“I said I did not want to marry some lord and have my only purpose be to give him children. I married a blacksmith and learned how to run a smithy.”

“And children?” Jon asked her.

“One day I will be a mother but it shall be my choice, not because it is expected of me.” She replied and smirked, “What about you?”

Jon frowned and continued their walk, “I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Yes you do.” She said, rushing to catch up with these large steps, “You are a King now, a true Stark in name, you can marry a beautiful lady and have many children.”

“I gave up that dream a long time ago, it does not seem like a real possibility.” He replied, “I probably also won’t be a King much longer.”

“Marry Daenerys.” She said without thought, the words slipping from her in the moment.

Grey eyes so similar to her own stared at her in the bright moonlight, “Marry the Dragon Queen? I am not worthy of that.”

“You are a Stark and the named King in the North, you are the closest she shall ever get to her equal in Westeros.” Arya told him, not sure where her sudden insight in this matter came from. She sighed when he did not answer, “Are you worried she will care that you do not know who your mother is?”

He shook his head, “I know who she is.”

Arya frowned, “How?”

“Bran. I told you how he is different now, he can see the past. He saw who she was.” 

“Who?” She asked when his pause lengthened. 

“Ashara Dayne.” He said and shook his head, “Bran said that Father had been in love with her, had planned to marry her before he was forced to marry Lady Catelyn. They had lain together at the Tourney at Harrenhal, resulting in her becoming with child. Father didn’t know until he went to Starfall to return Ser Arthur’s sword.”

Arya stood there in shock, “She just gave you up?”

He shook his head, “She was ill, dying. She was worried about what would become of me, so she sent me with Father before taking her life. Going for a quick death instead of the slow one that awaited her.”

“I am so sorry Jon, I knew you were hoping to perhaps meet her one day.”

“She loved me, Bran assured me of that much, that is good enough for me.” He told her, “I just wish Father had been the one to tell me it.”

A long howl stopped her from responding and they looked at each other in surprise. Jon smiled, “I do not think that Ghost is alone.”

Arya turned to the woods, having felt a tingling foretelling the arrival of her direwolf. It almost felt like one of her dreams but this was much more real. From the trees there appeared a large white shape, running towards them, Ghost. Beside him, was an even larger wolf, grey and brown and beautiful.

Arya felt the tears start to fall down her face as Nymeria came closer, stopping a few steps away, her golden eyes glowing in the moonlight. Arya smiled and held out her hand, “Nymeria?”

The direwolf stared at her for the longest time before moving forward, bypassing the outstretched hand and leaning her giant forehead into Arya’s chest. Crying and laughing at the same time, Arya wrapped her arms around the head that was nearly as big as her torso. She felt as if a part of her soul had been missing, and now it was whole once more. She couldn’t wait to introduce Nymeria to Gendry, she hoped her husband was ready, because now that Nymeria had returned, Arya was never going to be without her again.


	11. Winterfell

Arya had never really imagined that she would be able to step foot in Winterfell’s courtyard again. The Bolton’s had taken it and she had no army to take it back. She looked to her left, Jon had had an army though, and he had taken back the castle for House Stark. Sansa was on his other side and she turned to the right, Gendry riding beside her. Bran and Rickon were waiting for them. Her family might not be whole again, but it was larger than she had thought it was even just a few moons ago. Now, she was riding at the head of the combined forces of Westeros, a Dotharki horde, and an Unsullied army. Three dragons flew overhead and an pack of a thousand wolves stalked their trail. All of this so they could defeat an enemy that all had thought lost to myth or legend. 

“I can almost hear you thinking.” Gendry said, moving his horse a little closer to her own.

She looked at the grey towers in the distance, growing ever closer and she smiled, “I honestly wasn’t sure if I would ever see this place again. Now that I am almost home….” She shook her head, “It almost doesn’t seem real.”

He was silent for a moment before saying, “I have learned that with you around, anything is possible, m’lady.”

She scowled at him, “I thought we discussed this, I am not a lady, just a blacksmith’s wife.”

He chuckled, “You might have been just a blacksmith’s wife for awhile, but you are Lady Arya Stark now, m’lady.”

“You are insufferable, why did I marry you again?” She teased, her voice light and a smile on her face.

“Purely for the pleasure of my cock I’m sure.” He teased in return and she let out a laugh.

A cough drew their conversation behind them, where Ser Barristan was riding beside Daenerys, whose one face was hidden in her glove as she giggled.

Arya smiled, “My apologies Ser. I am sure you heard much worse talk serving under Robert Baratheon. I certainly did while we traveled on the Kingsroad down to King’s Landing.”

“Robert was a very crude man, the Queen is not.” Ser Barristan responded.

Daenerys laughed and urged her horse forward, coming up on Arya’s other side. With a glance back at her Hand, he remained behind. The Queen smiled at Arya, “Can I tell you a secret?”

Arya nodded, her brows furrowed in question, “I enjoyed my husband’s cock too, never be ashamed of it.”

Arya laughed, the Queen joining in, while Gendry looked away with a blush on his cheeks. Jon looked over and frowned, “Have I missed something funny?”

“You have my lord, but only because you have never had a husband.” Daenerys replied, causing Jon’s frown to deepen while Arya’s laugh got louder.

She remembered then that Jon would soon be Daenerys’ husband and the thought sobered her real quick, she did not need to think about her brother’s intimate relations.

Daenerys did not seem to notice her sudden change of mood, “I miss being able to speak about womanly matters with someone who is my equal.”

Arya shook her head, “i am not your equal Your Grace. I am just Arya. You are the Dragon Queen. Breaker of Chains.”

Danerys shook her own head in return, “You sell yourself short, my lady. I heard what the smallfolk of King’s Landing call you. The People’s Wolf.” 

“I only did what I felt I had to do.” Arya answered, “I didn’t even start out planning to be part of a revolution, I just wanted to kill Joffrey and Cersei for what they did to my father.”

Daenerys smiled, “I started on my path by just trying to survive. I didn’t want to marry my first husband, he was chosen for me. I knew my part to play and so I tried to make the most of it. I learned to love my husband and when he died, it broke my heart. I took that pain and from it my dragons were born.”

Arya nodded, she looked over to her brother, who was talking with Oberyn Martell, “Do you think you could come to love my brother?”

Daenerys glanced over at him for a moment before looking back at her, “Our interactions so far have been as pleasant as can be expected and he is nice to look at.” She joked before getting more somber, “I was cursed, by the witch that murdered my husband, that I should never give birth to a living child. I know many men care about that sort of thing.”

“Jon won’t.” Arya said, feeling the certainty, “He joined the Night’s Watch, knowing full well that doing so would entail that he never had children. Besides, how do you know that the witch wasn’t just lying?”

The Queen laughed, and lowered her voice, “I might have taken on a lover in Meereen, no child quickened in my belly.”

Arya shook her head, “Doesn’t prove anything, maybe his seed was defective.”

“I guess we shall see how well your brother’s seed does then.”

Arya grimaced, “I just had gotten the idea of Jon bedding you out of my head and you put it back.”

“I shall miss you when this is all over and I return to King’s Landing while you remain in Winterfell.” Daenerys said, “I have enjoyed your company.”

“I have had enough of King’s Landing, Winterfell is where I belong.” Arya said but then added, “I shall visit however.”

Daenerys nodded, “Perhaps you shall bring with children of your own when you do.”

Arya looked over to see Gendry had moved back and was talking with Podrick, and gave him a smile before looking back at the Queen, “We always said we would wait to do that until after the war is over and we were safe. I didn’t realize that the time for peace is at hand, just one more enemy to defeat.”

Horns sounded and Arya was surprised to see they were nearly at the castle, the stone walls were close now.

“One more enemy.” Daenerys agreed before she rode over to be at Jon’s side.

Sansa came up and filled the empty spot beside her, “I never expected to be home again.”

“Neither did I.” Arya replied, a chorus of howls coming up all around them, responding to the horn, and she turned to her sister with a smile, “Welcome home.”

“Welcome home.” Sansa said in return and together they went through the southern gate.

* * *

The castle was in a somber silence as they waited for the arrival of the Night King and his army, the Night’s Watch brothers that managed to escape and had made it to Winterfell only that morning, the army hot on their trail.

Gendry had been hard at work basically since they arrived in Winterfell working on creating weapons from the dragonglass that Daenerys had gifted them. She barely had time to see him outside of coming to the forge and forcing him to eat. He would come to bed late at night and collapse into sleep and was usually gone before she awoke. She had taken on the role of keeping an inventory of all the weapons that were being created, knowing that unless they had another three moons, they would never have enough. The time for creating weapons was over now, it was time to rest before the fighting started, for no one knew how long it would last.

They had eaten dinner with her family, the seven of them quiet at first but soon talking about some of their experiences since they last all been together. It did not matter if they had already been told, all that mattered was that they were together. Arya could tell that at first Gendry had felt like he was intruding, but he eventually started to engage as well. He told them stories about how he and Arya had lived in King’s Landing and how she had helped the revolution. She shared the story of killing Joffrey. Rickon explained how on Skagos he had nothing to do but hunt and survive, life was hard but also simple. Bran was vague about all that happened to him beyond the Wall, only that he learned to become the Three Eyed-Raven and that he owed Meera Reed his life. 

When dinner was over, Arya and Gendry retired to their chambers and attempted to get some rest, only there was no sleep to be had. The imminent threat of death was heavy over the entire castle, there was nothing to be done for it. Arya eventually decided that if they weren’t going to sleep, they were at least going to do something, and removed her clothes. Gendry watched her with attentive eyes, even in the North, he was still sleeping naked. 

Their kisses were slow but meaningful, they both knew that one or both of them could die in the coming battle. No words needed to be exchanged as their kisses grew more feverish, a different purpose taking control of them both. Arya let Gendry push her down onto her back and his lips were still on her as he pushed into her. Their noises filled the dark air but if anyone heard, neither of them cared. When they both reached their moment of release however, it was silent but for the sound of his skin against her own. 

As he pulled out of her, his seed slowly leaking out of her, she hoped this wouldn’t be the last night they had together. She turned and wrapped herself around him, she was not sure what she would do if she lost him.

* * *

The morning light was bright as it filtered in through the crack in the door to the crypts. Arya had not originally wanted to be sidelined with the women and children, but something warned her that the crypts were not the safe haven they were supposed to be. She was happy she had made that decision, she wasn’t sure how many of her dead ancestors she had to fight off, but the bodies on the floor had told her many. 

Sansa came up beside her, Silver tucked safely in her arms, “Is it over?”

Arya nodded, “I think so.” She looked over to see Missandei helping soothe a few of the orphans and smiled, “I’m going to go up and see. Stay here until I call down for you.”

She unlatched the door and pushed it open, only managing it a few feet before something stopped her movement. It was enough space however and she pushed her body through and gasped at the sight before her. There were dead bodies everywhere, those of the once living army of Westeros and those of the raised dead. No one was moving from where she could see, and smoke filled the air from where the castle burned. She heard shouting in the distance and walked toward it, her dragonglass weapons still firmly in hand. When she entered the North courtyard, she could see the body of Viseron, his body had broken through the wall when he’d fallen. She continued past the dragon, such a shame that such a marvelous creature was subjected to such a fate. A roar went off in the distance, letting her know at least one of the other dragons still lived, and it was picked up by the howls of wolves, so they were still alive as well. She stepped over more bodies as she made her way to the entrance of the Godswood, passing only a few living souls. 

Her heart was in her chest, where was Gendry? Where were her brothers? Rickon had been with the Mormont forces in the North courtyard, but she had not seen him there. Bran’s plan had been to use the power of the weirwood to help combat the evil, so that was where she was headed. Sure it would have been Jon and Rickon’s destination too, hopefully Gendry as well. Tears welled in her eyes, she should have fought harder to keep him in the crypts with her, he was not a trained soldier.

She couldn’t help but look at the face of every dark haired man she passed. She could not stand the thought that she had lost him. He was the only thing that kept her sane after her father’s death, after all the deaths her family was forced to experience. She couldn’t lose him, she wasn’t sure what would become of her without him? She was not the same person she was when he had first left these walls. She did not want to be someone else again, she was too young to be a widow.

There were bodies circling the weirwood tree as well, the undead eventually gave way to the Northern soldiers. She let out a sigh of relief as she saw Jon’s broad shoulders and Rickon’s red hair on standing forms. She moved to join them but then the tears filled her eyes as she looked at Bran’s lifeless body.

Jon turned and embraced her without saying a word, her eyes could not leave those of her younger brother. They were staring off into nothing, wide open, but she could see no wound upon his body. No way to see how his death came to be.

“He warged into the dragon.” Rickon said, and she turned to look at him, he was holding his left arm against his chest, “It was going to kill Jon and he stopped it. It gave the Night King a chance to reach him.”

“I was too late.” Jon whispered against her hair, “Just a moment too late.”

Arya felt the tears on her cheeks and shook her head, “No, he sacrificed himself for you. He chose to save you over himself. He distracted the Night King and gave you a chance to save the world.”

“I don’t know if I can believe that.” Jon said, as a dragon flew over head, the beat of the wings shaking the trees.

“You have too, we all do.” Rickon replied, his blue eyes watering with tears.

Arya nodded and pulled back from her brother’s embrace, “Have you seen Gendry? He was not in the courtyard, I hoped he would have made his way here.”

They both shook their heads and she felt the fear grip her heart again, she needed to find him. She would be unable to rest until she did. Without a word she turned away from them and sprinted back out into the castle proper. More people were moving about now, carrying the wounded through the rubble. She could hear Sansa’s voice directing them to be brought into the Great Hall in the common tongue, while Missandei was saying something to the others in High Valyrian and Dothraki. She would worry about the wounded later, she was sure that they had suffered more losses than just Bran tonight. She ran to the ramparts that had been his post but did not find him, either alive or dead. He was not in the lower yard or anywhere else in the broken courtyard. Her eyes caught on the door to the forge, it had collapsed and brought some of the roof down with it. Maybe he had taken shelter in the place he felt most comfortable, that was her final hope. She ran with haste around to a side entrance and slipped inside.

It was dark, the only light coming in from the holes in the roof. She could see a few bodies laying around and rushed to them, turning them over to reveal decayed faces of the dead. She started shouting his name, the desperation finally reaching the boiling point. A sound drew her attention towards the large bench on the far side, where the wall was stone, not wood because of the strong fire pits it supported.

She jumped over the debris and let out a shout of relief at seeing her husband, he was trapped by a beam on his leg but was alive. She reached out and kissed him hard before saying, “I feared you were dead when I came out and could not find you.”

“Apologies m’lady.” He responded, his breathing slow and harsh.

She looked down, she was sure his leg was broken beneath the beam, it looked bent at a wrong angle. She could not lift it herself, “Are you hurting anywhere else?”

He shook his head, “I killed those fuckers over by the door and as I came back here to get a new axe, the roof collapsed.”

“That was probably because of the dead dragon in the courtyard. I am going to go find some men to help lift this beam.” She said, giving him one more kiss before getting to her feet.

“I will wait right here for you.” He teased before letting out a grimace.

She shook her head with a smile and ran off, he was alive, she almost felt like she could fly. The future didn’t suddenly feel so helpless.

  
  
  



	12. The Future is Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash forward Epilogue

It had been ten years since she had last seen King’s Landing, since she had seen the red stone castle that loomed over the crowded city. At one time, the sight of those walls only brought on feelings of anger and grief, no more, not with two dragons circling the towers. The city itself seemed to have improved as well. Daenerys and Jon had spent the last decade expanding the city and redoing the layout, tearing it down section by section only to be rebuilt, this time with paved roads and a fully functioning sewer system. 

“When will we see Uncle Jon?” Lyra asked from her lap, jumping excitedly in the saddle.

“Soon by sweet, we have to get to the castle first.” Arya said, kissing the young girl on her raven haired head. 

She turned to look at her husband, who was holding their youngest as he slept against his chest, their eldest was riding on his own pony beside them. Gendry turned and flashed them a smile of his own, they had three beautiful children, and a perfect life in Winterfell. Rickon was technically the Lord of Winterfell, but it was run by both him and herself. Sansa and Podrick had taken over the ruling of the once Bolton lands from the Dreadfort, which had been renamed Wolvesfort. Their sigil was a red wolf running on grey background with three gold coins underneath, to signify the connection to House Payne, as their children had taken the name Stark, just as her own dead as well. Rickon was considering rebuilding Moat Catlin and having Arya and Gendry rule it, to help prevent any future invasions by the Ironborn. Winter’s grasp was finally beginning to give way to spring, Rickon planned to talk about the idea with Jon on this trip. Sansa had hoped that Rickon would return with a wife. Sansa remained in Winterfell, for it had been without a Stark for too long, and she had no desire to ever once again go to King’s Landing. Arya also thought it was probably best as Sansa’s third child was due within a few moons, better to not travel. Rickon was at the head of their column, his wild red hair blowing in the wind as he looked around at the city he had only ever heard of. 

“I had thought it would be different.” He called her over his shoulder.

“How so little brother?” She asked.

He shrugged, “Bigger somehow.”

She laughed, she had thought that as well once.

“Father, can we see your old smithy while we are here?” Ned asked, his blue eyes shining up at his father from his little pony.

Gendry nodded, “We can certainly see if it is still around, though Tobho is long gone.”

“We should see if Hot Pie still has his bakery. I have missed his baked goods.” Arya said, her mouth almost watering at the thought.

Gendry let out a laugh, “Of course m’lady.”

“Papa! You aren’t supposed to call her that!” Lyra shouted, defending her mother with all the vigor a six year old could manage.

Ned rolled his eyes at his little sister, “Shut up!”

The two began to argue, as they so often did. Though three years apart, the two would either be inseparable or throwing fists, she had no idea how that happened. Robb and Sansa were not nearly as confrontational from what Arya remembered. 

“Enough of that.” Gendry shouted, “You want your royal cousins to think of you a lot as Northern heathens?”

Ned stuck his tongue out his sister and she returned the gesture, but the fighting ceased. Arya noticed that Brandon’s eyes were now open, his blue eyes looking around in wonder. She smiled at her three year old, named for her brother, and smiled. Perhaps a fourth would be nice, another girl maybe, one that could maybe look like her, as the three she had took after their father.

Gendry was smirking at her when she caught his eye and she wondered if he knew what she thinking. She smirked at him in return before looking ahead, focused on riding through the gates with ease. 

She smiled as she saw Jon and Daenerys waiting for them, their five year old twins at their feet, and Daenerys belly round with a child. The future was bright, the seven kingdoms were at peace, and those houses hurt by the wars were starting to flourish once more. Drogon and Rhaegal roared in greeting and she knew, there was nothing she had to fear this time. They were all going to survive and they would thrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! Please let me know what you thought of it!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, please don't be afraid to comment and let me know what you think!!
> 
> Also, don't forget to go over to tumblr and check out the wonderful art for this fic as well. https://arya-regina.tumblr.com/post/621553339458519040/she-didnt-even-get-a-chance-before-the-two-men


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